


And Crimes That Were Never Defined

by hrkkitulikijehuar



Series: Never Sigh for a Better World [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor Who References, F/M, M/M, POV alternates between the main four, Slow Burn, mental illness and neurodiveristy are persecuted, the story isn't exactly dark but the universe is, uther is a terrible parent/guardian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:27:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 52,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrkkitulikijehuar/pseuds/hrkkitulikijehuar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In modern day Albion, the Last King died over 75 years ago but the constitutional government caries on. Uther Pendragon is the powerful Duke of Somerset, and he has a vendetta he pursues through his position as Minister of Public Safety. A major breakout of some of those imprisoned by his policies set many things in motion.</p><p>Meanwhile, his ward Morgana is in her second year at Camelot University. Arthur joins her there along with fellow first year students Gwen and Merlin. But the term doesn't go smoothly as Uther's vendetta seeps into the lives of even students at Camelot and those associated with Uther are targeted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arthur's Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> (1. this is my first time on this site and I have very little idea what I am doing so I will probably screw up sometimes, please bear with me  
> 2\. the setting is, like the series, in a very vague time and place, so the combination of American, British, and possibly Canadian and Australian, terms and references is intentional and random.  
> 3\. I have a history of characters not falling in love with who I intend them to so the ships are TENTATIVE and may change.  
> 4\. I am excited and grateful to have [ Jay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Recalcitrant_Slytherin_Slut/pseuds/Recalcitrant_Slytherin_Slut) as my beta! )

Prologue  
  
~*~Arthur~*~  
  
On an ordinary day, when Arthur was seven years old, his father sent for him. Arthur spent the entire walk to his father's study racking his brain for what he had done. He couldn't think of a thing, and grew more and more anxious as the neared the door. But his father would not tolerate any dallying, so Arthur knocked.  
  
“Enter.” Uther called. Arthur pushed open the heavy wooden door and made sure it closed quietly behind him. He approached his father's desk.  
  
“Father.” he announced his presence.  
  
“Arthur.” his father replied. Arthur sat in one of the straight back chairs facing the desk. His father, behind it, for once not working on any papers or taking any calls. This was odd. Even when Arthur was in trouble, even the worst kind of trouble, his father was always working when Arthur arrived. Arthur's stomach felt sick.  
  
“My good friend Gorlois, the Marquess of Exeter, has passed away.” Uther said, his voice even and unemotional.  
  
“Oh.” Arthur said. “I'm sorry.  
  
“Thank you, Arthur.” Uther acknowledged. “But the next time you speak with someone who has just lost a friend or loved one, you must say 'My condolences' or 'I am sorry for your loss'.  
  
“Yes, father.” Arthur said, wondering what condolences were and why he should point out which were his to people who had lost someone important.  
  
“I am telling you this because Gorlois' wife predeceased him. This leaves their daughter, Morgana, an orphan.”  
  
Arthur frowned.

“Morgana will thus be coming to live with us.”  
  
Arthur would have gaped, if he had not been told so many times not to make such vulgar expressions. Instead he managed to say,  
  
“I don't understand.”

“Have you not been listening?” Uther demanded in mild annoyance.  
  
“No, Father, I was, but why is she coming to live with us?” Arthur asked. “Doesn't she have any family?”  
  
“None that would make suitable guardians.”  
  
Arthur was unsure what to say next. He had always been in the rather comfortable position of knowing that it was extremely unlikely his parents would surprise him with news of a new sibling. His mother had died giving birth to him and his father seemed about as likely to remarry as he was to take Arthur to the circus (“Really Arthur? All those unsanitary animals and unsavory carney folk? I think not. That is highly inappropriate, Arthur. Do not mention it again”). Arthur couldn't imagine his father letting another child live with them. Arthur would have very much liked to say that he didn't want Morgana to come live with them, whoever she was. He would like to ask his father why it had to be them or, if his father was open to adopting other children, couldn't they get a boy his age. But he knew better.  
  
“How old is she?” he asked instead.  
  
“About a year older than you, I believe.” Uther replied.  
  
“Is she going to stay...forever?”  
  
“Until she is grown and wishes to establish her own home. No one will be staying here forever, Arthur. Not you, not me. We all grow up, and we all die.”  
  
Arthur sighed. His father was very strict about how Arthur spoke. When he was little, Arthur didn't know it, but even at the extremely expensive and private school he attended no one expected their seven year olds to be the way Uther expected Arthur to be.  
  
“She will be arriving tomorrow afternoon. I expect you to be welcoming, Arthur. She has just lost her father.”  
  
Arthur nodded.

“You are dismissed.” Uther began shuffling the papers on his desk.

 

“Welcome to our home, Morgana.” Uther said. “I am Uther. This is my son Arthur.”

Morgana stood in the parlor, stiff and staring at the floor. Her left hand was clutched tightly to an old teddy bear. And her right held a small hand bag. She was dressed in a simple, but elegant, black dress with stockings and shoes of the same color. Arthur had never seen another child look so miserable. She did not reply to Uther, she merely stood there, so tense she might shatter.  
  
“Morgana?” Uther prompted.  
  
Arthur couldn't help but feel sorry for her.  
  
“May I show Morgana where her room is, Father?” Arthur asked.  
  
Uther looked annoyed, but he said, “Yes, of course. I do hope you two will get along.”

Arthur moved forward and reached out to take the teddy bear's other hand. Uther's frown deepened, but he allowed Arthur to lead Morgana away by the stuffed animal.  
  
Once they were in the hallway, Arthur whispered, “I'm sorry for your loss. And I'm sorry you had to come here. Father is not....” Arthur trailed off. What could he say? Uther was his father. “I'm supposed to tell you about my condolences, but I don't know what they are.”  
  
“Condolences.” Morgana said. “Sympathies. It means you are sorry about my dad dying. You already said that.”  
  
“Oh.” Arthur shifted uncomfortably. She didn't seem upset with him, but her voice was so flat and hollow that he wasn't sure. He showed her where her room was and then left her.

  


Arthur had expected Morgana to be like the girls in his school classes—but she was not. Although, to be fair, he'd never had one in his home interacting with his father. From the very first day Uther and Morgana were engaged in a kind of war. Morgana would behave as she was used to, Uther would firmly correct her, then sternly correct her, and then he would discipline her. He sent her to her room, sometimes without supper, though he certainly never starved her. She had few privileges to be taken away, but he did that too. Once or twice he even shouted. Arthur had expected to be annoyed by Morgana, but instead he just felt sorry for her.  
  
“Morgana, look at me when I am speaking to you.” Uther would say.  
  
Morgana would stare at her feet.  
  
“Morgana. I must insist that you look at me when I am speaking to you! It is common courtesy.”  
  
Morgana would look up...but not at Uther. She looked at the window or at the clock or somewhere near him.  
  
“Morgana! Really. It is not difficult. Look at me.”  
  
And Morgana would look at Uther, and shake.

Sometimes she would never look up. At first, Arthur couldn't see any pattern to her behavior. Sometimes she did as she was told the first time, sometimes Uther had to be stern, but sometimes she just refused to do what he said. Arthur was a little in awe of her. But eventually he noticed that usually depended on how many times Uther had already corrected her. The first thing he asked her to do, she just did. But as the day wore on she took more and more prodding until she just wouldn't. Despite the fact that Uther rarely spent any time with the children, there always seemed to be just enough for Morgana to make him angry, and for Uther to upset Morgana.  
  
It was little things. She never actually misbehaved, apart from in the first week when she had an absolute tantrum when Uther told her she couldn't carry her teddy bear around outside of her room. Arthur had never seen anyone actually throw themselves down on the ground and scream and kick. But Morgana did. Arthur even admired that, in a way. But Morgana never looked at Uther unless he told her to, she was always fidgeting with things, she couldn't keep still, she took off her stocking at odd times...and so on.  
  
With Arthur she was more comfortable, but that was hardly saying anything. She was still quiet and stiff with Arthur, however friendly he tried to be. She'd back up if he came too close and jerk away if he tried to touch her. She spoke only to correct him when he misused a word or got a fact about something wrong. He knew he ought to be annoyed, but, she was so unhappy, Arthur just pitied her. It took him almost six months though to notice that she never looked at him either. With Uther, she was always looking down, in fear, he assumed, though she didn't really seem afraid of Uther exactly. But with Arthur she looked around—just not at him. It didn't bother him. He knew she was listening, she always listened.  
  
He tried asking her why she didn't just do what Uther wanted. He asked in general, and when she just stared at the trees he asked specifically. Morgana almost always answered direct questions if Arthur asked them, though sometimes if it was too vague she would wait for him to rephrase. He listed off all her small offenses and part way through the progression he noticed that she genuinely didn't seem to know why, or couldn't figure out how to explain properly because she stammered a lot. He gave up.  
  
Arthur tried to play with her, but in truth playing in Arthur's life had mostly involved the piano, the violin, chess, or some other activity that his father thought would be useful later in life. Half the time it seemed as though Morgana didn't know how to play, and the other half of the time she made him feel like he didn't know how. And then they bickered. Sometimes that was playing, in a way, and sometimes they got truly annoyed with each other. But Arthur was quickly learning to read Morgana, even when her face stayed blank.  
  
The bickering, however, was reported to Uther (the staff were all impeccable, impeccably trained, and they impeccably reported to Uther or things didn't work out). He called them both to his study, and they stood, three feet apart, in front of his desk, both looking down at their feet. Arthur knew he was in trouble. When he wasn't in trouble Uther said 'Arthur' when Arthur greeted him and that meant he was to sit down. But when Uther didn't say his name, it meant he had done something wrong.  
  
“I have been informed that the two of you have been bickering.” Uther said. Arthur didn't actually know the word bickering but it was not the first time he'd been scolded for something he didn't understand and he knew better to ask. Morgana probably already knew what it meant. She seemed to know all the words grown ups used.  
  
“This behavior must cease.” Uther said. “It is of vital importance that you learn to interact with others correctly, and amicably. As you grow up, there will be many people in your life that you must interact with successfully.”

At least this gave Arthur a clue as to what he had done wrong. He opened his mouth to make his apologies and promise to be better but Morgana spoke:  
  
“We're children.” She said, and, unbidden, looked up at Uther. It was not a long gaze, but it was the first time Arthur was aware she'd done so. “We're supposed to learn some things on our own, through practice. We can't learn to interact successfully if we're too scared to try. We're supposed to make mistakes.”  
  
“Children, and adults, do indeed learn through mistakes. However, you and Arthur have not been learning on your own. You continue to bicker. This is unacceptable and children must be corrected and guided by adults.”  
  
Morgana let out a frustrated sigh and marched out of the room.  
  
Arthur was worried.  
  
“She tries.” He said quickly. “I know sometimes maybe it seems like she doesn't, but she does try to behave. It's just hard for her.”  
  
Uther, who had been standing during the admonishment, sat in his desk chair wearily, and rubbed a hand over this face.  
  
“I know, Arthur. Gorlois likely doted on her, widowers with daughters often do. They spoil them, indulge them....perhaps...perhaps I have been too hard on her.”

And it was as though someone pulled the expensive rug out from under Arthur's feet. He felt almost dizzy, like he might topple over. Emotions bubbled up in him, ranging from jealousy to panic. His father had never admitted weakness or mistake, never showed any of the humanity he did now. And worse.  
  
“May I be excused?” Arthur said, his voice thin.  
  
Uther raised a dismissive hand. Arthur very carefully and correctly exited his father's study. He very carefully and correctly walked back to his room, shut his door, and burst into tears.

  
The next day Morgana was presented with a new teddy bear, not by Uther, but by one of the servants. She stared at it. Arthur could tell she was trying not to cry.  
  
“Are...are you alright?” he asked.  
  
“What does he want from me?” she whispered.  
  
“What?” Arthur asked, lost.

Morgana sat the teddy bear on the floor, walked a few steps away, sat down and stared at it. “What does it mean?”  
  
“Oh.” Arthur said, his lip trembling. “He said...your father probably...did things differently and maybe he'd been too hard on you.”  
  
Morgana's face didn't change but he could tell that surprised her.

“I think he likes you better than me.” Arthur said, finally confessing his fear. Morgana stood up, she walked over near Arthur and stood next him. She didn't look at him or try to touch him, but she spoke:  
  
“Arthur....this isn't normal, you know that right?” It was the first time she'd used his name.  
  
“I....” he started.  
  
“It's not just that my daddy did things differently. You hardly have any toys at all. I've noticed. You don't really have friends. You don't go to their houses. Maybe you just don't know, but it's not normal. I've been places. I stayed over with friends and gone on trips and things. I've met parents. They're all different and sometimes they have different rules and its confusing. But I've never been anywhere like this at all. You're always sorry. You're sorry my dad died, you're sorry I have to be here, you're sorry when I get in trouble, you're sorry when you say things wrong. You're....like a squashed bug. That's not how it should be. You should be happy. I don't think you have ever been happy, you can't be here. I don't think it's allowed. That's wrong, Arthur. People should be happy at least sometimes.”

It was the most he'd ever heard her say, and it made him almost as angry as it made him sad. He knew it was true.  
  
“What is normal?” He asked.  
  
Morgana blinked.  
  
“You have a point, I suppose.”


	2. Merlin's Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's first day at Camelot university where he meets Gwen, who is nice; Morgana, who is precise; and Arthur who is the son of the most despicable man in the country.

Chapter One  
~*~Merlin~*~

  
Merlin was excited, but also extremely apprehensive. He knocked on the door and waited. And waited. How long were you supposed to wait? How did anybody know things like that? He knocked again. And waited. How many times was it polite to knock before giving up?

He checked the address. It was correct. This was Gaius' house. This was where he was supposed to be. Reasoning that, as this was going to be his home for the next fours years in a way, it was ok for him to poke about and so he walked around to try the back door.

In the garden was a man watering some flowers.

“Hello?” Merlin asked. “Gaius?”

Gaius started, dropping the can.

“Good heavens boy.” He breathed, eyes wide.

“Sorry.” Merlin replied, rushing forward to pick up the can.

“Well, it is nice to meet you Merlin.” Gaius accepted the can back.

“And you, Professor Tudgan.”

“Gaius, please. I don't even have my students call me Professor Tudgan.”

“Ok.” Merlin said.

“Well, let's get you settled in, shall we?” Gaius smiled, putting the watering can in the shed.

  


Gaius had a small house just outside the campus where he had worked for more than twenty years. He was now “almost” retired, he only taught one class each semester though he did tutoring work occasionally. Camelot University was an important and prestigious school. Merlin was just grateful he wouldn't have to stay in the dorms. Gaius had taught Merlin's parents and kept in touch with them after they'd left school. Merlin's father had walked out before Merlin was born and his mother never talked about it, but she had mentioned Gaius occasionally.

Merlin opened his window and looked out at the campus, at the lights in the darkness. There were many challenges ahead, he knew, but for a moment he let himself just think of the potential. Out there would be people like him—maybe not many, but some, and people nothing like him at all, but still decent. The student population was literally ten times that of the entire population of the hamlet, Ealdor, where Merlin had grown up. Probability dictated that there had to be friends out there waiting to be found.

However, reality never lives up to ones hopes.

“Watch where you're going!” exclaimed a young man as Merlin walked into him. Merlin had been frowning at the classroom numbers and his schedule trying to find his second class. He stumbled back, surprised and somewhat annoyed.

“It takes two not looking to collide with that kind of force.” Merlin snapped, without thinking. “You should take your own advice before you lecture others.”

“Excuse me?” the young man sputtered in outrage.

“Yes, that's better.” Merlin replied, moving to sidestep the young man, who was wearing expensive looking shoes and carrying what appeared to be an equally expensive looking bag.. “You are excused.”

“Oh you think you're clever, then, do you?” Mr. Expensive Shoes sneered, blocking Merlin.

“Statistically, my intelligence is likely to be greater than yours. By...several points.” Merlin replied. He was just being accurate, really. Not that he actually put much stock in IQ tests, but even though Merlin knew that he has been a big fish in a little pond in Ealdor. He was, objectively, very intelligent. And Mr. Expensive Shoes sounded an awful lot like the sort of person Merlin was used to running mental circles around.

Mr. Expensive Shoes huffed for a moment before he managed to get out a sting of actual insults and swear words. Merlin rolled his eyes and tried to step by again. Thankfully, the confrontation was over, and Merlin finally found the classroom for English 102.

  
“Do you mind if I sit here?” a female voice asked, apologetically. Merlin had put his bag on the chair next to him to discourage people from doing just that, but, he could hardly tell the girl to go away.

“No.” he replied, moving the bag.

“I always like to sit in the front.” she said. “Besides, it's supposed to make a good impression.”

Merlin didn't say anything in reply but the girl didn't seem to mind.

“I got lost twice trying to find this place.” She confessed. “Everything looks the same.”

“Yes, it does seem to.” Merlin said, deciding he couldn't make friends if he ignored everyone.

“I'm Gwen.”

“Merlin.”

“Oh. Wow. Um.” She said. “I like that.”

Merlin shrugged. It was his name, he was used to it and all the jokes that came with it about him being a wizard.

“So...what classes are you taking?” She inquired.

Making small talk until class started, Merlin decided that Gwen was alright. She was nice, anyway. Merlin had never been very good at making friends, and there had been a finite number of opportunities in Ealdor, small as it was. Everyone knew everyone else and remembered all the embarrassing things you did as a child and it was hard to recognize when people actually grew and changed and became different people than they were when they were five. But Gwen just stuck with him, even walking with him toward the union after class, chatting merrily.  
  
“Oh look!” Gwen said, suddenly, her voice bright. “Morgana!” She waved at someone she recognized.

Morgana turned out to be Gwen's RA and in her second year. She seemed nice as well, and, while Gwen was easy to talk to because she just flowed on like a river, totally unfazed by silences or any awkwardness, Morgana was easy to talk to because she spoke very precisely. In the end he ended up going back to their dorm building to watch Doctor Who, which he was astounded to find, both girls were very enthusiastic about.  
  
After two episodes, Merlin explained about his evening class—a lab for evolutionary biology, and Gwen volunteered to walk with him—which turned into Morgana showing both of them where the Natural Sciences Hall was. Merlin had completely forgotten his earlier encounter with Mr. Expensive Shoes and was convinced that university was going to be very easy as he had already made two friends. The classes didn't worry him, intros were all bound to be easy, he wouldn't have to worry until later about the material being difficult. When he waved goofily at Gwen who beamed and Morgana who smiled politely, he felt as close to on top of the world as he ever had before.

His bio lab started, like every other class, with introductions. The lab was run by two TAs who were graduate students and after they talked about their studies a bit, they had the class go around and say their names, majors, and where they were from. A familiar voice in the row ahead of Merlin said,  
  
“I'm Arthur Pendragon—yes, my father is who you think he is, I'm a political science major and I'm from Rhionydd, of course.”

Merlin tried to peer around the lab table but he couldn't see the shoes associated with the voice. Either way, he was certain it was the young man he'd walked into earlier. Merlin sighed. He looked at Arthur then, finally bothering to take note of what he looked like. He was blonde, attractive, and quite fit. It wasn't until after he noted with annoyance how good looking Arthur was, that what he had said filtered through Merlin's mind and his blood ran cold. Arthur Pendragon. From Rhionydd, whose father was who they thought he was. Uther Pendragon, Duke of Somerset. But Merlin didn't have time to dwell on that before it was his turn to mutter his own awkward introduction.

After that, the first hour was devoted to safety procedures and attendance policies, which Merlin only half listened to. The Duke of Somerset. Everyone knew who he was, of course, but Merlin knew it especially because Somerset was who had been spearheading a relentless campaign against 'people with mental defects'; which was the current, politically correct, way to lump together people with mental illness, disabilities, or any one else who didn't meet ever narrowing specifications determined by arbitrary tests. People like Merlin, and people not like Merlin at all. Somerset was the one who drafted the law that forbade any such people from attending Camelot, or any other university. It was he who wrote the law creating the special schools for those people, the ones his mother refused to talk about but lied to keep him out of. Somerset was the one who pushed through the law that limited the jobs that anyone 'mentally unfit' could hold. Uther Pendragon (Duke of Somerset) was, simply put, the person Merlin hated most in the world. And his son was not six feet away.

Merlin had never considered that Somerset had any children, he supposed he ought to have paid more attention seeing as his son would obviously go to Camelot. Merlin would have liked to be prepared for that. He didn't know what to feel. Should he panic? Should he drop the lab and try to reschedule? Should he be angry? Should he be plotting to push the idiot in front of a car at the earliest convince? Merlin just felt an empty pit in his middle waiting to fill up with something as soon as his numb brain could focus. Before Merlin could work out what he felt, the preliminaries were over.

Labs were a three hour affair once a week, so, after the introductions and policies, the TAs announced they'd be doing a practice dissection, a sort of warm up for the many to come as they explored the evolutionary relationships between different phyla in the animal kingdom. They were divided into groups of three based on where they were sitting so while Merlin was not in a group with Arthur, he did end up in the group directly behind him. After the TAs passed out the trays with the worms on them and the students finished shuffling their bags and lab books and sliding their chairs, the TA, Val, began talking them through it,  
  
“Now, I know most of you did this in school, but it has probably been awhile. Some of the things we'll be doing in here you won't have dissected before. So this is a good opportunity to get over the smell again, and remember how to use a scalpel.”  
  
Part way through, Val-the-TA let Elena-the-TA take over the walkthrough, and, whether she was nervous or distracted or it was a simple slip of the tongue, she misspoke when identifying the crop and the gizzard, and mixed them up. Before Merlin could think, he had corrected her without even raising his hand. He felt bad as she apologized to the class, he hadn't meant to embarrass her. If he had thought it through, there were better ways to address it than just blurting out that she'd been wrong. 'Careful, Merlin', his mother's voice whispered in his head.

But all consideration flew out of his mind when Arthur glanced back his way and muttered coldly,  
  
“So in addition to being rude and inattentive, you're also a prat. Good to know.”  
  
“As this is a classroom, where we're supposed to learn this stuff,” Merlin hissed, “I thought it important no one be confused by it.”

“No one would have been. It's in the book, and we'll be doing it again in a few weeks anyway. All you did was point out what a know-it-all you are.” Arthur sneered. Merlin opened his mouth to answer back, but one of his lab partners trod on his foot, glaring. Swallowing his retort, Merlin stared resolutely ahead, not hearing a word of Elena-the-TA's lecture.

  
It did not come as a surprise really, when Merlin found himself sprawled on the floor later at the bottom of the stairway. He'd been tripped after class when he'd annoyed a bully before. And while he had sort of dreamed that university would be different, Arthur Pendragon's very presence had already convinced him of his folly. At least Arthur tripped him at the bottom and not the top.  
  
“So in order to prove your superiority over a rude, inattentive, prat,” Merlin snapped, grabbing the books that had fallen out of his bag. “You decided to resort to primary school bullying tactics?” He stood, clutching his bag to his chest, facing Arthur.  
  
“Clearly you never learned anything from being bullied.” Arthur retorted calmly. “Like keeping your mouth shut, or that just because you are bullied doesn't mean you don't have to be nice to people.”  
  
“I _am_ nice.” Merlin growled, not bothering to ask how Arthur knew he'd been bullied. Merlin knew he was very clearly the kind of person who had been. “I didn't mean to embarrass the TA and I might have even apologized if you hadn't have stuck your nose, and now your foot, in. I'd have probably apologized to you earlier if you hadn't been rude first. But now that I know who you are, I'm glad I didn't.”  
  
“What's that supposed to mean?” Arthur asked, offended but also genuinely confused.  
  
Merlin got hold of himself just enough to lie. “You're a bully.” He stated rather than, 'You are the son of the most despicable man in the country'.  
  
“Just you keep your mouth shut in lab if you don't want to find out how much of a bully I am.” Arthur said. “I can't stand arrogant little know-it-alls like you. You think that just because you know something, everyone should; if they don't they're stupid or beneath you, and you never give anyone a chance. You jump all over any mistake to prove how smart you are, you have no heart. It's disgusting.”  
  
Merlin's mouth fell open. He'd been called arrogant before, and a know-it-all several times, but always by people who were angry or jealous that he'd beaten them at something. No one had ever accused him of not having a heart. He was extremely angry that Arthur had put him on the defensive, that was backward.  
  
“You don't even know me. What's all that based on, two brief interactions on our first day?” Merlin demanded lamely, then stopped because any of the things he wished to say about Arthur's character were just as dependent on those brief interactions. How he longed to tear Arthur apart for being a bully who tormented the weak and thought might was right, but, the only other weapon he had was that Arthur was Somerset's son, and that weapon was more dangerous to Merlin than to Arthur.

But Merlin's logic, however lame, did bring Arthur up short. He glared, plainly searching for something vicious to say, unable to hit Merlin without further provocation. Merlin decided not to give him time to think up anything.  
  
“Look, we got off on the wrong foot, and maybe I'm an arrogant jerk with no heart and you're a ruthless bully who preys on the weak and there's no hope for it, but, maybe we just...” Merlin trailed off not wanting to say 'got off on the wrong foot' twice in the same sentence. “I'd rather you not punch me, really, if we could avoid it, but I don't want to have to sit through lab terrified to speak either. So why don't we just...try again next week, before we make up our minds about it?”

“We'll see.” was all Arthur said, apparently as discomposed by the turn of events as Merlin. But he left without hitting Merlin, so there was that.

  
Merlin debated what to tell Gaius at supper, but he figured Gaius deserved it for not warning him about Arthur. So when Gaius casually asked about Merlin's first day, Merlin was accurate and honest.

  
“I got to all my classes ok, they seem fine. A little boring because its the beginning, but ok. I met two girls who like Doctor Who, they seem really nice. Gwen and Morgana. Gwen's a first year as well but Morgana is a year ahead, so she's not in my classes. She's Gwen's RA though. Oh, an I got into a fight with Arthur Pendragon.”  
Gaius spit his soup all over the table.  
  
“I didn't know Uther had a son, so I didn't know to watch out for him.” Merlin explained calmly. “Seems like a bully.”  
  
“Merlin, you must be careful.” Gaius reprimanded him seriously. “Most people won't notice, but Arthur is more likely to be looking for such things. If he were to expose you--”  
  
“I know Gaius.” Merlin sighed. “I know.”

“I'm not sure you do, Merlin. You're no longer a child. Far apart from getting myself and your mother into trouble, you would go into Care. They aren't called prisons officially, but that's what they are—worse for they do not have to follow the same rules. Torture is not just allowed there, it is encouraged. Do you really understand what that means?”  
  
Merlin didn't answer. Of course he did, and of course he didn't. He'd never been to such a place, never seen it, never experienced it. However, he was very aware of it, he lived in it's shadow and felt it strangle him every single day.  



	3. Gwen's Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen's idyllic university experience is interrupted by a disturbing text message from her brother and then things go from unimaginable to terrifying.

Chapter 2  
~*~Gwen~*~  
  
The thing Gwen liked best about university was that everyone was in the same boat. Some people knew each other of course, people from the same family or same area, but basically the first years were floating in the same awkward sea. It made it easy to sit next to Merlin in English and talk him through his shyness. It was easy to latch onto Morgana, since that was part of her job; and easy to stay up with her roommate swapping stories of their home towns. It was even easy to work up the nerve to talk to the incredibly attractive guy she had the good fortune to sit next to in her World History Recitation on her second ever day as a university student. She just jumped right in with a smile and,  
  
 “Hi, I'm Gwen.”  
  
“Hello,” he replied, a little startled. “I'm Arthur.”

He had beautiful blue eyes, eyes one could easily stare too long into and make things very awkward. The eyes, with his blonde hair and lovely face made him a very traditional sort of handsome—not quite pretty exactly, for his features were very masculine, but still beautiful in terms of their perfection. He had the body to match, she noted. He was probably the best looking man she'd ever seen in real life—or ever would in future. But this was university and if she didn't talk to handsome guys now, when would she?

“And what do you think of history, Arthur? You're sitting in the front with me so I doubt you're one of those guys who thinks it's useless and boring and sleeps through it.”

“Em, no.” he replied. “I mean, I do think it's boring sometimes, but it's also important.”

“Well that's something.” She smiled. “But the real question is--”

But before she could ask him what he thought of Doctor Who, the Professor brought everyone to order. It was during the very repetitive introductions that she found out that Arthur was in fact Arthur Pendragon, which Gwen happened to know, made him the Earl of Edgemont. She gaped then snapped her mouth closed, face growing hot. Arthur, for his part, gave a small, sympathetic smile when she snapped her eyes to her syllabus. She supposed being the Earl of Edgemont made introductions tricky. If he had told her when she'd offered her name, it would have flustered her and possibly put her off making friends with him. She could understand, she supposed. Part way through the Professor's explanation of how grading worked, Arthur slipped a scrap of paper onto her desk.

_I'm just Arthur._

She glanced over at him, and scribbled back,

_Well just-Arthur, just-Gwen graduated from school thank you very much, and will talk to you after class if you have something to say, rather than pass notes._

She made a show of looking very haughty and dignified. He clearly bit his cheek to keep from laughing. After class let out, they very naturally made their way to the union for coffee, talking happily about how their roommates snored. He was clearly used to privilege, but he did seem to think he was just-Arthur, a university student. It was sweet, really, she thought, though a bit dangerous of course because at some point he was going to have to learn that he could never be just-Arthur, and had to figure out how to be Arthur-the-Earl-at-Univseristy.

“You know what my father does, obviously, but what about your family?” he asked politely.

“My father is a blacksmith.”

“A black smith?” he asked, confused more than judgmental. “Like custom work or medieval fairs?”

Gwen laughed. “Both, actually, but mostly custom work for people like your father when they want to remodel their castles.”

“Oh. Well. Yes.” Arthur said. Gwen made a note that his father was a non-topic for now.

“But I never got to ask you the important question.” Gwen reminded.

“The important question?” Arthur eyebrows knitted together slightly in confusion.

Gwen nodded solemnly. “It's the most important question in the universe and on your answer rides whether or not we can be friends.”

“That sounds ominous, do you ask everyone you meet this question?”

“Eventually,” she replied honestly. But again, they were interrupted.

“Oi, Arthur!”

And Gwen was introduced to Arthur's cousin, Cai, who clearly had no interest in first year girls, so she left them, which was alright because she had a class to be getting to anyway. As she wasn't on the best of terms with her brother, who had half run away from home when he turned eighteen, she didn't bother reading the text he'd sent until she was walking back to her dormitory.

_Run Dad's dead Just run_  
   
Gwen stared at it. In a fury she sent back,

_Worst joke ever from the worst brother ever._

There was no reply, but that was for the best because nothing he could say would do anything but make her angrier. You didn't send texts like that. You just didn't. So Gwen shoved her phone back into her pocket and swiped her card to unlock the door. She was glad to find, once she'd gotten to the third floor, that Morgana's door was open and none of the other girls were seeking her sage advice.

“What's the matter Gwen?” Morgana asked, not even looking up from her computer screen as she scanned a page full of cat gifs and baby pictures.

“How do you do that?”

“Peripheral vision, hearing, etc.” Morgana replied, turning as Gwen sat on Morgana's bed.

“My brother.” Gwen sighed. “He and my dad had issues so he left as soon as he turned eighteen and we hardly ever hear from him. He just sent me the worst text message ever.”

“Text message, so not naked pictures then.”

“Omigod ew, no.” Gwen exclaimed.

“Well, then what?”

Gwen showed her.

“You think it's a joke." It wasn't even a question, and something in her tone made Gwen's insides freeze.

“O-of course I do.” Gwen tried to say lightly, but her voice betrayed her sudden worry.

“Well, I'm sure you're right.” Morgana replied, turning her gaze from the phone back to her computer. “But I think you should call your father just in case. I know I said you should all teach your parents and yourselves to call once a week, but that's routine. This is special circumstances.”

“I don't know...” Gwen started, suddenly afraid.

Morgana looked back at Gwen. “My father died when I was eight. Just humor me.”

Gwen opened her mouth, but Morgana didn't look like she wanted sympathy or to talk about it. She just went back to scrolling through the page of inane posts from friends.  
  
“Right.” Gwen managed, eventually. “I'll go do that. Thanks, Morgana.”

Morgana nodded vaguely as Gwen left.

Gwen unlocked her door and sat at her own desk. She didn't do anything for a long moment. She couldn't bring herself to ignore Morgana's advice and just check facebook herself, but she couldn't just call either. Finally, she hissed out a curse at her own stupidity and called home.

  


Gwen was not sure how she got back in Morgana's room. Everything seemed to be happening out of order. Her phone was broken, or at least the battery had popped out when she'd dropped it. Strange, it had never done that before. And while she wasn't careless, she'd dropped it plenty of times. She was dimly aware of a sort of worry about her phone, she'd need it. And, what with everything, who knew when she could get another. But then, she realized it was in her hand. The battery was back in and it was on. So her phone was ok. But that struck her as wrong, because how could her phone be ok, nothing was ever going to be ok again. She was crying, she realized, clutching her phone and crying, in Morgana's room, and she could remember putting her phone back together now. And walking here. And the voice on the phone that had answered her call. But Morgana was talking to her now.

“Gwen, apart from your brother, do you have any family?”

“What? No? I don't...” Gwen shook her head. “My mother died when I was ten. I don't...”

“You said that.” Morgana stated calmly. “Any grandparents, aunts or uncles?”

“No.” Gwen replied, suddenly feeling more alone than she ever had in her life. “No, oh gods, I'm...I'm..."

Morgana sat beside her on the bed and put her hand on Gwen's shoulder.

“You are not alone.” She promised. “I know we only met three days ago but I am going to stay with you through this even if you decide to leave university.”

“Leave university?” Gwen repeated, numb on the first word and panicked on the second.   
  
“No, don't think about that now.” Morgana soothed. “I just meant, I'm not going to be your RA, I'm going to be your friend. I know what this is like, I know how scary it is. Whatever happens, you won't be alone.”

Gwen just sobbed in response.

“Gwen...there is something we do need to discuss now.” Morgana murmured, letting Gwen cling to her, crying and shaking. “That text your brother sent...he told you to run. Do you have any idea what he meant? Why he'd say that?”  
  
“No. I don't even know how Eylan knew...”

All the voice on the phone had said was that there had been an accident and her father had been killed. The voice promised that the authorities would be with her soon to talk to her about the details. It asked for confirmation that she was at Camelot University and she had given her room number.

“Gwen, was your father...I'm loath to ask, but did he ever do anything he shouldn't? Anything illegal or...?”

“No.” Gwen sniffed. “No, he was a blacksmith. He...he did good work, he would never do anything really wrong.”

“What about your brother then?” Morgana pressed.

“I don't know. ..I want to say he was a good boy, but I don't really know where he is or what he's been doing.”

Morgana stayed silent then and Gwen was grateful. She knew Morgana was trying to help her but all she wanted was to cry, to cry until she fell asleep so she could wake up and find that none of it had happened. But she knew it wasn't a dream.

But why had Elyan told her to run? Run where? How had he known before she did and why wouldn't he answer his phone now? Because that's why she'd been so focused on her phone, she'd been trying to call him, waiting for him to call back. She hadn't seen him in three years but surely none of it mattered anymore. Now their father was dead, it was all meaningless and he could come back and they'd face this together. But he hadn't called. He'd said to run, had he run? Where and why? Could anything be important in a world where her father was dead?

Morgana stayed with her, waiting. They had Morgana's door open since the police officers would have to walk by it to get to Gwen's room and Gwen didn't want to move. Morgana said it would help, it would be better not to hear it in a room where she was supposed to sleep later.

But it wasn't uniformed officers that walked past Morgana's door to find Gwen's room and knock, it wasn't even plain clothes detective inspectors. It was four men in black suits, the kind who wore sunglasses and earwigs in movies. Gwen was too lost in remembering how her father had taught her to ride her first bicycle to register them but Morgana let out a hiss that brought Gwen's mind back to the present. Morgana poked her head out of the room and said,

“She's in here.”

And then she came back and sat next to Gwen. When the men entered, she put a protective arm around Gwen's shoulders. It was strange. Morgana had been very sympathetic and extremely supportive, but she had not done the most expected thing. She had not hugged Gwen. Gwen hadn't realized until then but Morgana had been small with her gestures. She'd let Gwen sob all over her, but the most she had initiated was a hand on Gwen's shoulder. It hardly seemed important though, as the four tall and dark-clad men squeezed into Morgana's tiny room and glared down at her.

“Gwenhwyfar Smith?” One asked. Gwen nodded and Morgana tightened her grip.

“And who are you?” she asked pointedly. “I'm her RA so you'll understand I can't just let just anyone distress her at a time like this. I'm responsible for her.”

This wasn't true, of course, Morgana's responsibilities as an RA did not actually extend to staring down what appeared to be government agents on Gwen's behalf. But Gwen was grateful.

The man who had spoken reached inside his jacket and pulled out his credentials. He showed his badge to Gwen, but she couldn't read it through her tears. Morgana on the other hand, went completely stiff and Gwen nearly squawked as her nails bit into Gwen's shoulder.

“I am Agent Pellinore, Department of Public Safety.” That shocked Gwen out of her grief.

 “Wh-what?” Gwen blinked. “Why you?”

“I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to come with us, Miss Smith. The particulars surrounding your father's death fall under our jurisdiction.”

Gwen looked at Morgana, who, as a naturally pale person, had gone positively translucent. Public Safety had come to take Gwen away.

“Surely there is no need to take Gwen off campus.” Morgana argued calmly. “I can call the Hall Director—or you could go straight to the Dean I imagine, but surely there are facilities on campus that would meet your needs for interviewing a grieving girl. Think of her studies.”

“Thank you for your diligence in looking after Miss Smith, but we will be taking responsibility for her now.” The man said to Morgana, dismissing her with the sort of politeness that could only mean sarcasm. “Miss Smith?”  
Gwen didn't move, just stared. Morgana, however, gently pulled her arm from Gwen's shoulders and squeezed her hand. Gwen let out a sob.

“I'll call the Hall Director Gwen, don't worry. We'll sort out your classes and everything. Everything will be waiting when you come back.” Morgana promised. Gwen shook her head dully, getting to her feet. Morgana couldn't help her. Her brother had said to run and she hadn't. Now she was on her own, and Gwen didn't think she'd ever be coming back.


	4. Morgana's Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana enlists Arthur and Merlin in brainstorming how to help get Gwen back.

Chapter 3

~*~Morgana~*~

 

    Gwen was one of those people who needed to be touched. She was free and honest with her affection and her concern—but it needed a physical bridge half the time. She’d hug easily, give playful smacks, nudges, and all manner of little subtle gestures. She was no different in grief and it made absolutely no sense to Morgana.

    Morgana knew that people like Gwen existed, but for Morgana joy needed space to buzz and pain need space to breathe. Touching just crowded things and made them harder. But Morgana did her best to give Gwen what Gwen needed. Watching Gwen sob, she found that there really wasn’t much difference between being eight years old and finding out you were an orphan and being eighteen when it happened. You’d think there would be, you’d think that age and experience would matter. But in that moment, when Gwen had come back to Morgana’s room, dead eyed and shaking, age and experience hadn’t counted for a thing. Morgana couldn’t say how she’d known Eyaln’s message was sincere, she’d never met him so she had no idea if he was the sort of person to play jokes—stupid hurtful jokes--but somehow, when she’d looked at Gwen’s phone and saw the words, she’d known it was real. Maybe it was easier for her to believe that kind of thing because her father was already dead. Before it happened, it always seemed like it couldn't.

    But she couldn’t make sense of anything that happened after it was confirmed. Elyan, though estranged from his family, found out that Mr. Smith was dead before the authorities even contacted Gwen. And he’d known to tell Gwen to run. Would that she had, would that Morgana had trusted her instincts and told Gwen to run. Not that it would have worked, she doubted Gwen had anywhere to run to. And Agents from Public Safety…

    Morgana did call the Hall Director. He shared her concerns but pointed out that there was nothing they could do if badged Public Safety agents had taken Gwen away. He did promise to contact Gwen’s professors and make sure that, if Gwen managed to return, her place would be waiting if she wanted it. After that, the only thing Morgana could think to do was to call Arthur.

    “Slow down, Morgana.” Arthur soothed when he arrived in her room. “I think you just implied one of your residents has been abducted.”

    “She has.” Morgana responded. “Oh I know it’s not not technically an abduction, but Arthur, it was all so strange.” And then she explained properly.

    “Sounds like…” He started, looking very uncomfortable. “Did you ask if her father was…?”

    “No, until those goons showed up my mind didn’t go there. Besides, if he was and she knew, do you think she’d tell me? Of course not.”

    “Hang on, did you say her name was Gwen?”

    “Gwen Smith, why?”

    “Brown hair, very friendly, dark skin, lovely smile?”

    “Yes, I suppose, why? Do you know her?”

    “I think I met her in a recitation today. Damn. She was nice.”

    “And whatever her father was or did, he’s dead now. She doesn’t deserve this.”

    “Well.” Arthur began cautiously. “You don’t actually know her, Morgana. We have to trust the authorities on this. If she’s innocent of…whatever it is, I’m sure they’ll let her go.”

    “You are the stupidest person I’ve ever met.” Morgana spat, but for once, without affection. Arthur was hurt, she could tell. He was used to her insulting his intelligence, it was a bit like ‘I love you’ between them. But Arthur was his father’s son, and Morgana had not only come from another home originally but been at university for year already. She knew what Arthur refused to see.

    “You’ve never had a mental proficiency test.” She explained, regaining her composure. “You don’t understand.”

    “Neither have you.” Arthur retorted.

    “Do you suppose they’re easy to pass? Especially when you’re grieving and have just been hauled off by strange men?”

    Arthur was spared having to answer as a knock came at Morgana’s door. Morgana stared blankly for a moment, but as an RA she didn’t have to be expecting anyone for someone to need her. However, when she opened the door, it was Merlin.

    “Oh. Oh hell’s balls, I’m sorry Merlin. I should have texted you. Gwen…” Morgana paused, vague yet menacing government agencies aside, it was Gwen’s business. Still, she had to tell him something. “There was a family emergency. She’s going to be gone for awhile. I really am sorry I forgot to text you.”

    “Oh.” Merlin was clearly shocked and a little bit uncomfortable. “Oh, right, well, um, let me know if there’s anything I can do?”

    “Let him in and tell him the truth.” Arthur commanded. “He’s smart, maybe he can help.”

    Morgana turned and stared at Arthur. He shrugged and Morgana opened the door all the way, pointing Merlin inside. Merlin seemed to regard Arthur as some kind of aberration and came cautiously into her room. Arthur was sitting in her desk chair so Morgana pulled out a folding chair for Merlin. There wasn’t a lot of room in her single, but they fit better than the four agents had. Morgana sat back on her bed.

    She looked at Arthur again and asked, “You know Merlin too?”

    “Not really.” Arthur said. “But he says he’s nice.”

    Merlin, for his part, seemed half ready to flee. But it had been a very strange day, and so Morgana told Merlin what had happened.

    “Public Safety took Gwen away?” Merlin asked, dismay clear in his tone.

    “Yes, I read the badges.” Morgana replied.

    “Is that why he’s here?” Merlin pointed toward Arthur. Morgana looked at Arthur, confused.

    “Explain.” She turned to Arthur as he sighed.

    “Merlin was in my bio lab, and we, uh, ran into each other before that. But he knows I’m Arthur Pendragon. I assume he’s referring to the fact that my father is the Minister of Public Safety and has some wild notion that my presence has to do with that.” He then turned to Merlin. “That’s not why I’m here, at least not the way I think you meant. Morgana called me because she's practically my sister.”

    Merlin’s head snapped up and he stared from Morgana to Arthur.

    “You’re related to—” He began to Morgana, but she shook her head.

    “No, Arthur’s father took me in when I was orphaned at eight years old. We’re not actually related, but we did grow up together.”

    Merlin seemed to take this badly, which didn’t surprise Morgana. It was one thing for Arthur, he couldn’t hide who he was or his relation to his father. But she could, and she’d learned quickly to do so. Everyone was scared stiff of her if they knew who her guardian was. What did surprise her was the way Arthur had been staring at Merlin ever since he arrived. It wasn’t something most people would notice because Arthur’s gaze had shifted from Merlin to Morgana depending on who was talking and flicked across some of the things Morgana had in her room—all very natural. But Morgana had developed, as a combination of her own talents and the relentless upbringing Uther had provided, the ability to tell not only where someone was looking but also where their focus was. She could do this all without appearing to be paying any attention to her target, but it worked best on people like Arthur who she knew well. And she knew that no matter where Arthur’s eyes fell, his focus had been Merlin. Everything about him was reacting to Merlin.

    But that was not helping the matter at hand.

    “I called Arthur because I trust him to keep this quiet and I needed to talk to someone about what I should do. I’m worried about Gwen.”

    “And I told her to let you in because I was doing a terrible job. From what I can tell we’re complete opposites, so, maybe you’ll be good at it.” Arthur said, his tone somehow rendering that insulting.

    “Arthur’s not very bright.” Morgana sighed. “But he’s all I’ve got to work with.”

    Merlin stared at his shoes. “You said Gwen doesn’t have any family.”

    “No, well, apart from her brother, but as I mentioned, he’s complicated at the moment.”

    “Then I think we should be her family. When Public Safety takes people away, sometimes the family is too afraid to get involved, but usually they fight for the person, and that can actually help. They need to know Gwen’s not forgotten, that they can’t just do as they please, someone’s going to keep asking and asking about her. They’ll try to put us off, we’re not relatives, but,” and here Merlin glanced at Arthur’s shoes. “Your name carries weight, and if you’re a Pendragon ward,” he turned to Morgana’s shoes, “well, that won’t hurt either. I’m not important but for what it’s worth I’ll do what I can. That’s all assuming, of course, you can’t just ask…him to look into it.”

    “Absolutely not.” Arthur replied immediately, then he muttered, “Why do I feel like I’m part of an anti-government conspiracy?”

    “Because you’re an idiot.” Morgana replied, this time with affection. “Thank you Merlin, I think you’re right. I tried to do that earlier, a bit. I told them when they took her that I’d make sure Gwen’s place was waiting for her when she got back. I don’t know if they took me seriously though.”

    “How do we actually contact Public Safety? I mean, I know there’s a tip line for reporting people, but that won’t help.”

    And as they discussed how to go about making sure that Gwen was not forgotten, and how they would handle people who tried to tell them off since they weren’t relatives, and speculated on how they might get in contact with Gwen’s brother, Morgana became aware that they had all adopted each other. She wasn’t sure Merlin and Arthur actually liked each other at all but they had thrown in together, with her, for Gwen. Perhaps it was because she had had no choice about Arthur, so she was not opposed to having circumstance thrust Gwen and Merlin into her family as well, but whatever the reason, they were now four instead of two.

  


    Finally, having decided on some tentative plans of action, and many reassurances from all involved that they were all in it come-what-may, Morgana gently reminded them that they all had classes the next day and it was getting late. Arthur just grunted but Merlin nodded and stood up, stretching and giving a wide yawn.

    “And I can ask Gaius what he thinks.” He added. “I don’t know if he’ll be of any help, but my mum reckons he knows just about everything so…what?” Merlin trailed off, realizing that Morgana and Arthur were staring at him.

    “You know Gaius?” Arthur asked, totally bemused.

    “He’s…my uncle, why?”

    “Oh no reason.” Morgana said. “He’s only been my tutor since I was nine.”

    “What?” Merlin asked, comically stopping with his hands above his head.

    “Clearly the world is much smaller than we’ve been led to believe.” Arthur smirked. “What dorm are you in anyway?”

    “Oh well, that’s just it. I’m not, I live with Gaius.”

    “Of course you do.”  Morgana suddenly very, very tired. “Out, both of you. I need to sleep.”

    “Better do as the lady says.” Arthur smiled, standing up and crossing to the door. Merlin followed him out and Morgana was left to fall back on her bed and reflect that it was the most eventful few hours she’d had in a very long time; and, that she wasn’t at all sure three university students, whatever their connections, would be of any use to Gwen at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the nightvale reference was too tempting!)


	5. Arthur's Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur reflects on what he thought university life would be like and meets a pretty girl. And apparently people in Albion still use CDs.

Chapter 4

~*~ Arthur~*~

Somehow, Arthur's first year at university had managed to go terribly wrong by the second day. It was supposed to be all forging important life connections and fun and learning whatever his classes taught him. It was, he had gathered, to be the best time of his life because his father would permit, and even expect, a certain amount of what he normally considered bad behavior. Not much, but...some. Arthur would be allowed to get drunk with his mates (providing it happened sparingly and they didn't go out in public or damage any property and it didn't affect his grades) and kiss girls (providing he didn't hurt important feelings or do it in public or besmirch anyone's honor). Uther said that university would be a time for Arthur to learn the reasons for all the rules, a time to learn that actions had consequences. This was supposed to be Arthur's four years of ok-not-freedom-but-maybe-a-mild-security-prison-rather-than-the-high-security-one-that-was-his-childhood.

Instead, he was confused and nervous and involved in something he didn't understand. And, somehow, walking with Merlin.

“Thank you, by the way.” Merlin said without warning after they'd left Morgana's building.

“For...?” Arthur asked, not looking at Merlin.

“Actually reconsidering your opinion of me.” Merlin replied. “I thought, really, this could only end in punching.”

“It still may,” Arthur warned, but he no longer thought so. “Look, in my experience, there are two kinds of arrogant, clever bastards. The kind like Morgana, and the other kind. I thought you were the latter.”

“O...k...” Merlin drew out. “You might want to give people a chance though. Camelot has the population of a medium sized city, statistically you are bound to run into people who don't fit your expectations.”

“On my first day?” Arthur asked. “No, don't answer that. Statistics. Right. Whatever. The point is, you might be ok and I might not have to hurt you. It's still unknown.”

“Actually, I think the point was that I was trying to thank you.”

“Well, you're welcome then.”

And that was the end of that conversation. The thing was, Arthur knew Morgana, and he knew that she was always a reason away from challenging his father. Their war had never abated, never cooled as she adjusted to life under Uther's care. Their battles had just changed. And despite how his father favored her, Arthur had never lost the feeling that Morgana was one step away from unleashing some terrible wrath of Uther's. He wasn't heartless, he feared for the pretty girl who'd made him laugh in class. But he'd always tried to reel Morgana in, pull her back and be a buffer between her and his father. He was used to it, but so was she and it hardly ever worked anymore. She was headstrong and independent. That's why he'd wanted Merlin in on it.

It had been a desperate hope, but Merlin had delivered. He'd come up with a solution that didn't sound likely to get Morgana in as much trouble as Gwen, but still allowed her to do something about the problem in front of her. Because Morgana never could walk away from a problem. So he was grateful to Merlin, even if he had no idea why it had worked out.

Just before the part of the main path where Arthur would have to turn and go toward his dormitory, Merlin said:

“I know it's none of my business, and I wouldn't ask except Gwen's future is literally at stake, so don't think I'm just being a pillock, but why can't you just ask...your father to look into it. I don't mean ask him to let her go or abuse his power, but just...it's his department. Seems like he'd know how to find stuff out and what we could be doing.”

Arthur restrained himself from deciding that hitting Merlin was a good idea after all. But Merlin was just some random bloke who got caught up in this the same way he had, and he really had seemed to care about Gwen.

“Have you ever heard my father speak about his work? About people with mental defects?”

“I caught part of a speech on the television once.” Merlin replied, then, “Oh.”

“Exactly.” Arthur said. “My father won't share Morgana's concerns. He'll think...Gwen is where she needs to be. Morgana thinks about what comes after, and about how Gwen must be feeling. My father...believes that it's all worth it.”

Merlin didn't say anything after that, and they didn't even acknowledge each other when Arthur turned toward Pembroke Hall. Merlin kept walking, off to Gaius's house just off campus. Arthur hadn't had the chance to ask how Merlin managed that. First and second years were usually required to live on campus, even if they were from the town.

There was something about Merlin. In a way, he reminded Arthur of Morgana. It wasn't just the idiosyncrasies, the way Merlin didn't look at people unless he was angry (or, if he was like Morgana, if he was talking about something he was passionate about and seeing through people), or the way he fiddled with his hems and tapped his feet, or that feeling that there was some terrible and beautiful power held behind the dam of his body—like he was crammed full of something and might explode. There was something else, too, a deep potential for loyalty perhaps, or that cunning clear gaze that saw people without looking at them. He wasn't sure, but something about them just felt similar, and, it made him want to trust Merlin. Not like him, but trust him. Those things were different, and Merlin still irritated Arthur. But Arthur was no stranger to the fact that human relationships could be built on things other than liking.

Arthur's roommate was Leon, and they had been classmates since they had started school. They weren't close—their friendship didn't work like that. It was more that they were familiar with each other and could count on the other not to do anything too stupid or particularly inconsiderate. Leon was dependable.

He was also chatting with an extremely pretty girl when Arthur got back to the room. She had golden hair, shiny and flashing highlights. It waved slightly and framed her features pleasantly, cascading around her and falling nearly to her waist. She had a round face, and a soft smile for Leon.

“Oh.” Arthur said, giving Leon a very specific kind of look. He might be about to grab some meaningless item and meet someone somewhere else for a few hours.

“Arthur!” Leon beamed, not giving him the 'I need the room' face. Arthur relaxed slightly and finished walking in. “This is Sophia. Sophia, Arthur.”

Sophia gave Arthur a shy smile, and he offered his hand. There was something playful in the way she shook it. Arthur hoped Leon didn't like her very much.

“I was just burning her a copy of _Allbury Lane_.”

“Oh, a Nana York fan, I take it?”

“I think so, honestly I'd only heard their first album. But Leon swears I'll like _Allbury Lane_.”

And while Leon burned her a few other CDs he thought she'd like, she talked music with them. Her tastes were similar to theirs, but she diverged in interesting places. Leon was a bit too into Pop for Arthur anyway, but Sophia had a strange metal penchant. She promised to bring them each a CD she thought they'd like and they wound up making plans to get lunch together tomorrow.

“So...” Arthur asked Leon, with a knowing smile. “Where did you find her?”

“She's in my English class and stop looking at me like that. She's very pretty but you know I'm with Clara.”

“Clara is half way across the country and you'll only see her on holidays. I'm not knocking her, just, keep your eyes open in case the long distance things doesn't work out. That said, if you're not into Sophia...”

“Be my guest.” Leon said amiably. “She's all most a pretty as you. You'd look good together.”

  


And so Arthur had a very strange day ahead of him. Classes: math lecture, world history lecture, and bio lecture; lunch: CD swap with Leon and Sophia; dinner: War Meeting with Merlin and Morgana. The first half was all that he expected, and the second half made the first seem silly. Arthur wasn't convinced Gwen was in any actual danger. She had seemed completely mentally sound when he'd met her. He knew it could be hard to tell, of course, but if she wasn't sound then it was right that she be identified, observed, and, given whatever treatment might make her as safe to be around as possible. Morgana seemed convinced that Gwen would be misidentified, but Arthur thought it would be obvious to the agents that, as Gwen was grieving, her tests and results would have to be handled carefully. It was, after all, the entire job of the agents within the Office of Mental Proficiency to do things like that. Grief stricken people were a delicate issue because it was accepted that grief was a sort of temporary madness—not a true defect, but, that it could expose defects that had been overlooked previously or cause permanent mental instability in some people.

Obviously, the OMP dealt with that sort of thing on a daily basis, so why was Morgana so worried? She should be glad, really, because it took the job of observing Gwen off her shoulders. Friends, family, and neighbors had a civic responsibility to watch out for signs of mental defects in people because the mentally unsound so often did terrible, harmful things to people. As Gwen's RA, Morgana would have had to watch for signs that her grief was exposing some deep flaw and then report it to Public Safety. This way, Morgana didn't have to do anything and if Gwen came back, they'd all know she was safe. But Morgana usually assumed everyone was incompetent.

Merlin seemed to agree with her since he mentioned that people whose families didn't get involved might have a lesser chance of being found safe. Or maybe he said that to humor Morgana, who knew. Arthur just hoped the whole thing would be over soon, and, as the only outcome that would satisfy Morgana was that Gwen come back, he hoped for that. Still, it was all extremely serious. Anything involving Public Safety and mental defects was always extremely serious. That was one thing his father had taught him that everyone else seemed to know and agree with.

And those were Arthur's thoughts during his math lecture. But, as it was only the third day, he was not especially worried that his notes were a doodle of a penguin riding a motorcycle and he had no idea what they had covered. He had managed to scribble down the homework anyway.

He paid more attention in World History, taking careful notes because Gwen would need them when she came back. He had no idea if she was in math or not, or what her other classes were, but he knew about History so he figured he should take care with his notes.

Finally, lunch came. Sophia was, if possible, prettier today than she had been yesterday. She had on some kind of subtle lip gloss that just made him aware of how full and kissable her lips were, which, he had noticed vaguely the night before, but now....

“What classes are you taking?” she asked, politely, not seeming to notice that Arthur was probably staring a bit at her lips.

“Oh, Math 102.” Arthur managed to focus on her eyes again. “English 101, World History 1, and Evolutionary Biology.”

“Well, I'm in History 1 of course.” She said. “But nothing else is the same. Do you have it with Gildas?”

“Nah, Momounth.” Arthur said, poking at his pizza with a bottle of hot sauce. “What's your major?”

Sophia smiled sweetly, “Psychology.”

Leon laughed as Arthur made a show of sucking in his breath and regarding her suspiciously.

Then they launched into a teasing war based on the stereotypes for their majors.


	6. Merlin's Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin meets someone new who is unexpectedly helpful, also, terrifying.

Chapter Five

~*~Merlin~*~

    “Merlin,” Gaius said gently. “ I understand why you want to help this girl. But I don't think it's wise. Morgana and Arthur are associated with Somerset and thus are protected in this venture, but you are not. And you have much to fear. Anyone trained in spotting those with mental defects--”

    “I'm not defective!” Merlin's voice rose.

    “I know, Merlin, I know.” Gaius sighed. “But that is how you will be seen. You know that.”

    Merlin just seethed. Of course he knew that. But it was infuriating. Some people hated pie, and that, he thought was more defective than anything about him. So he could only wear clothes in certain colors and fabrics, so he had trouble holding still and would prefer to flap his arms when he walked, so he had memorized all the waterways in Albion when he was seven, so what? Yes, if too many people talked to him at once it was hard not to put his hands over his ears and scream, was that really so strange? Did it really matter than he couldn't talk about the weather or whatever small talk was? What the hell was the point of eye contact anyway?

    “Merlin, I won't pretend I understand you or what it's like to be you. But I will tell you that when I was twenty-four I was treated for depression.”

    That caused Merlin's anger to snag. He looked at Gaius's spoon.

    “It was before Somerset and the Ministry of Public Safety, of course. But even then people could be funny about such things. It was not thought to be a masculine illness, for one thing. It was associated with weakness and laziness. Men were often even more reluctant to admit they needed help than women. I...didn't want to believe that I did either. But I had a close friend who could tell that I was struggling, that I was...not myself in some ways. I lost interest in the things I once loved, I couldn't see the point in anything. I was snappish and morose by turns. Many of my friends simply moved on, but, one....one saved my life Merlin. I was closer to suicide than...well...than anyone even then liked to admit. But my friend stuck by me and made sure that I swallowed my pride and got treatment. I have had a spell or two since then, but thanks to the help I got then, I know how to manage it.”

    “It's different.” Merlin said. “That's a mental illness. That's something that can kill you, can hurt you, and that isn't part of you. With me...it's who I am, Gaius.”

    “I know, Merlin, but that's the point. Now, a person suffering as I did hardly ever receives any treatment, and it is thought a blessing to society when they take their own lives. All for, as you have pointed out, something temporary and treatable. What do you think they do with people like you Merlin, people who cannot be cured because there is no illness, just who they are? This girl is a warning, Merlin, a reminder that you must be, at all times when you are not in this house, not merely careful but perfect.”

    Merlin sighed. “Is there nothing we can do?”

    “Not for Gwen, no. I doubt even Morgana and Arthur can help her now, but I have known Morgana long enough to know she'll give it her full effort.”

    “How did you end up her tutor, anyway?”

    “The same way I end up anyone's tutor. Her guardian was concerned that she wasn't getting the

instruction and support she needed in school. She's very bright, but like anyone she has her weaknesses. Uther merely wanted her to have the best education possible. Now I merely meet with her once a term to make sure she doesn't have any concerns.”

    Something about all of that stuck Merlin as odd, but he couldn't place what exactly it was. And before he could discover the reason, a great pounding came on the door.

    “Gaius! Gaius Tudgan! I know you're in there!”

    “Gracious me.” Gaius said, startled and looking towards the door in shock. “What the devil is going on?”

    “GAIUS TUDGAN OPEN THIS DOOR OR I WILL BREAK IT DOWN!”

    Merlin, unfortunately, was under the table, curled in a ball, trying to remember to breathe. Sudden, loud interruptions with no warning could trigger anxiety attacks. Merlin was not especially prone to them, but, given the subject matter they'd been discussing and the day he'd been having, it wasn't terribly surprising.

    Gaius got up and went to the door, which Merlin thought was utter madness.

    A reedy, frail, and weak looking old man stormed into Gaius's house. Gaius was sort of old, but this man was very old. Merlin could tell by his ankles. They were brittle looking, wrinkly, and clearly belonged to someone ancient and not well cared for. His shoes didn't fit and were well worn, so Merlin could guess the man got them from charity. He could pick out these details, and process them, because part of his bio-chemistry had decided this might be a life or death matter.

    “Kilgharrah?” Gaius asked, his voice full of disbelief.

    “Yes, you traitorous wretch. It's me, here, in your kitchen, and I maintain it is impossible to be paranoid when they are actually out to get me AND when people really did sell me out. People like you, or rather, just you.”

    “Kilgharrah--”

    “No, no I will not hear it. I have spent TWENTY YEARS in prison so you will listen to me babble, you will, I swear you will or I shall—merciless socks man, have you got a teenager under your table?”

    “Yes, as a matter of fact I have. His name is Merlin and your entrance no doubt startled him. Understandable, I think you'll agree.”

    “Merlin, poor chap, I bet I did, well, sorry so sorry, I am a bit of a dragon sometimes, but I'm not going to hurt anyone, no, not now, anyway, and not you, I don't know you yet.”

    “I think it would be best if we moved our conversation elsewhere and let Merlin recover.” Gaius said.

    “Right-o, yes, quite, I agree, the parlor then?”

    “After you,” Gaius said. And the two men left.

    Merlin stayed where he was.

    When he was a child growing up, things had been perfect. His mother woke him up at the same time every day and made him the same breakfast everyday until he got bored and asked for a different one. He got on the same school bus with almost always the same people and went to the same classroom all year. School was mostly predictable too, and Merlin had the same packed lunch everyday—and never got bored of it. He had the very same lunch from year two until he graduated. This framework of familiarity was the ground Merlin had stood upon. It was what let him cope with the things that were not the same, like people and their ever changing needs and demands and confusions.

It kept him safe, too. It had been easy to blend in as a child. Oh sure, he'd been thought a bit of a quirky child, but it had all worked out. Secondary school had been when things had gotten more difficult. Things had changed and Merlin had struggled with it. That's when the anxiety attacks had been the worst, but he'd handled them, and he'd adjusted. Eventually.

    Coming to live with Gaius had been a large change—university an even bigger one. Merlin had, he thought, done very well. He'd gotten through his first day with only the fight with Pendragon as an issue. But this second day had gone all to hell. He thought Gwen getting taken by Public Safety was the worst thing that could happen on one's second day of university. He'd been wrong. Strange, volatile, paranoid men could burst in and start raving.

    Eventually, Merlin's breathing exercises allowed him to calm his heart rate and get out from under the table. He cautiously made his way across the hall to Gaius's parlor and knocked on the door.

    “Come in, Merlin.” Gaius called. Merlin went in. Gaius and his guest, Kilgharrah, were seated facing one another. Kilgharrah was in a corner facing the room and the door and looking toward the window.

    “Uh, hello?” Merlin said.

    “Merlin, poor chap, feeling better?” Kilgharrah asked.

    “I think so.” Merlin said.

    “Good lad, good lad, it's a devil to take a fright like that, I should know, I should. But Gaius here tells me you have a spot of bother about a girl, name of Gwen Smith whose father just died, did he now? Well and under the kind of circumstances that get Public Safety involved, was it? Hmm, well, would you being knowing, Merlin, if his name was, possibly, Thomas Smith? Or if he happened to be an aptly named man, his profession being that of a blacksmith?”

    Merlin blinked. “I know he was a blacksmith.”

    “Well that's a bit of a coincidence if it is one.” Kilgharrah said. “Because I, and others, just this very day, did happen to escape from a Care Facility with the help of a few brave souls. One of these, I am sad to say, was killed in the effort. And he was a man I knew as Tom the Blacksmith. So it seems to me that, really, it's likely your girl Gwen, is his unfortunate daughter.”

    “You escaped?” Merlin repeated.

    “Well I'm clearly not still there.” Kilgharrah said mildly. “Though any who wasn't mad as a hatter going into such a place, surely becomes so. But delusions were never my area, no they weren't. I might be paranoid, so they say, which might be close sometimes, but never have I seen anything that turned out to be unreal.”

    “So, Gwen's dad was involved in breaking people out of a Care Facility?”

    “It does seem so.” Gaius said.

    “Gaius also mentioned,” Kilgharrah pressed on, “That you had made the acquaintance of the Earl of Edgemont, vile Somerset’s likely vile son.”

    “Yes...” Merlin confirmed, not sure if Arthur was vile or not.

    “Well latch on to him, boy!” Kilgharrah hissed. “And don't let go. It's a rare opportunity, to say the least.”

    “Er, sorry?” Merlin said, lost. Gaius looked alarmed as well.

    “This is a university, or it was when I went in to the Nuthouse. University is all about learning, yes, but also about friendships. And if you were to become the friend of the next Duke of Somerset, really get in with him, make him your man, best of chums, and all that. Well, you'd be in a very good position, you would, to direct some of his learning. He might learn, say, that not everyone his father has had chucked away is actually dangerous. He might learn that someone could be a damn decent bloke, best of mates, and be...different. He might learn that his father is a--”

    “Kilgharrah.” Gaius warned.

    “Oh damnation, Gaius.” Kilgharrah barked. “If you defend Uther Pendragon one more time I'll--”

    “Why would you defend him?” Merlin asked.

    “Do you remember that story I told you Merlin, about when I was younger? About the friend who saved me?”

    “Yes...” Merlin said, suddenly sorry he'd asked.

    “That friend was Uther Pendragon.”

    “And so what?” Kilgharrah boomed, standing up and seizing a lamp. “That man was decent to you once. Once! And for the last twenty years he's had people rounded up and tortured. Torn people to shreds, good people, vulnerable people. He's ruined lives, families, he's...” but the man ran out of words to express Uther's crimes. He stood there, huffing and puffing and brandishing the lamp, eyes popping, but comically small and frail from his years of mistreatment.

    “I know what he's done.” Gaius said quietly. “And I condemn it. I don't deny what he has become. But he did save my life, and, he has never once had them come for me. I know it seems a small thing, trivial and worthless, but to me...I cannot forget who he was.”

    Kilgharrah just seethed, and then, slamming the lamp down, stormed out of the room. A few seconds later the front door slammed as well, and Merlin found that Kilgharrah had gone quit as violently and suddenly has he had come.

    “Who was he?” Merlin whispered.

    “Kilgarrah was once a professor at Camelot.” Gaius said. “He taught Uther and I, actually, long ago. He was a brilliant mathematician, but, as you will have gathered, he was...not just paranoid, but eccentric, a bit unstable even. And, when the law passed banning anyone considered mentally unfit from attending universities...many promising young people were forced out. Uther had never come for Kilgharrah, he turned a blind eye originally...but after that. Kilgharrah tried to organize people to oust Uther from government...and things got very nasty in the end. There were riots, assassination attempts. Kilgharrah was actually encouraging his former students to try to kill people, Merlin. He had to be stopped.”

    Merlin was quiet for a moment. “What will he do now?”

    “Get up to his old tricks, I fear, but he's so weak...and they'll be hunting him. I suppose I should report him but...”

    “No.” Merlin shook his head. “Let him go...he only just got out...maybe...”

    “I doubt it Merlin, those places do not make better men. They take good and destroy it. But I do think he will find his own way back there, without my help.”

    “Good.” Merlin said. “I'm going to bed.”

    “Goodnight, Merlin.” Gaius said.

 

    When Merlin's alarm went off, he desperately hoped that it would be, War Meeting aside, a very calm and routine sort of day. He'd already been to all these classes once and so finding them would be easier, they would all be at their established times, and, hopefully start establishing their own routines. He fully planned to take a day off meeting new people and just ignore anyone who tried befriend him. And then everything would be predictable, at least until dinner which was at least a set point in time (six o'clock) with a set goal (call Public Safety and demand an update on Gwen).

    But Kilgharrah had other ideas.

    “Merlin, I found this on the floor this morning.” Gaius said, handing him a scrap of paper and a bowl of oatmeal. “He slipped it under the door.”   

    Merlin, have an idea to help your Gwen, make sure to call OMP at 2:30pm and give them a hard time.

    Merlin sighed. So much for predictable. He finished his breakfast, and went up to his room where he texted Morgana to see when they could talk. Working with people so close to Somerset might be an advantage for some things, but, for this it put Merlin in a very bad place. How could he explain the change in plans? His only hope was something he noticed yesterday. Morgana might have been raised by the hated man, but she seemed to have a shrewd idea what Public Safety actually was, and judging from the fact that she was leading this campaign for Gwen's freedom, she was more trustworthy than Arthur. Plus he didn't have Arthur's number anyway.

 

    “Alright, Merlin, what is it?” She asked. Merlin liked this about her, she skipped the small talk. He decided to be just as blunt.

    “You need to call about Gwen at 2:30, and I can't tell you why. But it's best chance we've got.”

    Morgana regarded him for a moment.

    “Alright.” She acquiesced.

    “I don't think we should tell Arthur.” Merlin added. “I mean, not telling him is complicated, but I can't answer questions and that alone is pretty suspicious.”

    “I won't tell him.” Morgana said. “But he's not as bad as you'd think. Well, I suppose he is right now, you don't know what it was like in that house, but it's not who Arthur is. He'll figure that out—eventually. I'll try to help him. You could too, it would do him good to have a friend who wasn't selected by Uther from the sons of his supporters.”

    Merlin shook his head. “That wouldn't work.”

    “Maybe not, and I can see why you might not want to try. But you should think about it.”

    “I have to go now.” Merlin said. “Anthropology.”

    Morgana let him go without protest.

–  
    Merlin was actually in bio lecture at 2:30, so he wasn't with Morgana when she called, and nor was he aware of exactly what was going on in the world. But when he checked his phone after the class ended he had five new messages from Morgana chronicling her inquiry, assurances that Gwen would be released, and something about a riot in the Middlands that she seemed to think he might know something about.

    That took him a full minute to comprehend because part of his brain was stubbornly thinking about biology still. It was difficult sometimes to switch topics so abruptly. Kilgharrah. And how, exactly, the old man had managed it, Merlin couldn't begin to guess. But he could understand why. And, if Gwen really was to be freed....but still, he needed to find Morgana and make sure she understood that Merlin was not responsible for the riot. She readily agreed to meet him in the union.

    “Before you ask,” Merlin said, taking his cue from earlier that they could dispense with any pleasantries. “I don't know anything about a riot. I don't know anything about anything. I didn't know what was going to happen, I just...happened to sort of find out that....2:30 would be the best time.”

    “Well it was.” Morgana said. “At first they gave me some official nonsense about not disclosing information about ongoing cases and tried to hang up. But part way through my best attempt at sounding like I actually had access to a legal team, they put me on hold. I didn't know whether to stay on, or if that was just their way of trying to make me give up. But ten minutes later they asked if I could come get her.”

    “But you're here.” Merlin said.

    “I sent Arthur.” Morgana, taking a sip of her coffee. “Anyway, the whole thing struck me as very odd so I checked the news. Turns out there was a massive riot inland and the department was caught off guard and basically panicked. They must have already determined she wasn't much of a threat, or at least not involved in whatever he father was, because they decided it wasn't worth their time or personnel to keep dealing with me and holding her.”

    Merlin frowned. “Are they saying anything about the riot?”

    “Not really, which is telling. I won't ask you anything Merlin, or even speculate—much. I'll tell Arthur I saw the news report first, and just guessed it would be a good time and seized the opportunity. Sound acceptable?”

    “Yeah, that would be good.” Merlin pulled on the strings of his hoody, tapping his foot in one of his thinking rhythms. He wasn't sure how he felt about this turn of events. Gwen being free was certainly a good thing, but a riot was bound to have caused more problems, gotten more people taken for questioning or arrested, and, possible hurt or killed. “Do you think they'll really let her go?”

    “Apart from having a car, as you pointed out, Arthur has the Pendragon name. He won't want to use it, but, this is one time that him being a spoiled elitist brat will come in handy. He's used to people knowing who he is and naturally giving way—he doesn't even notice, but he'll be insulted if they try to fob him off.”

    They sat in silence for several moments. Morgana wound a lock of hair in her fingers, flicking the ends over the tips of her fingers. She had her own thinking rhythms, he supposed. But neither of them asked the question, for there was no point. Neither of them knew what would happen now, neither of them could answer that. It was not a relaxed, companionable silence, but it was not awkward either. There was something in that silence, each lost to their own thoughts, Merlin tapping his foot and Morgana twirling her hair. And Merlin wondered if maybe making friends was less about social ability and likableness, compliments and conversation, than it seemed on TV. Maybe making friends was more about who you chose to trust and take risks for when there was no good reason to do it. Maybe it was about who did that for you.


	7. Gwen's Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gwen is rescued by a metaphor sundae.

Chapter 6

~*~Gwen~*~  


    Gwen, if she had dared to hope to expect anyone, would have expected her brother to be the one to turn up when she was mysteriously released. Or perhaps Morgana, given what the older girl had promised. But Arthur Pendragon, son of the Duke of Somerset, was a complete surprise. They had had one conversation, thirty or forty life times ago—or yesterday as the rest of the world thought of it.

    “-and here are your personal effects.” someone handed Gwen a manila envelope; she accepted it, still staring at Arthur.

    “Let's go.” He murmured as he put gently grabbed her elbow, leading her out of the office, and then the building. He had a shiny silver car, nothing ostentatious, but clearly new and well cared for.

    “Erm,” Gwen stuttered as he walked around to open his door. “Sorry, just, I'm not sure I understand what happened. Why they let me go…? Why you're here…? I'm grateful. I...”

    “Gwen.” Arthur left his door open and walked back to her. He didn't seem to know what to say for a moment. “I've known Morgana since I was seven and she can move mountains with her will. She thought they'd...mistake you, so she got you out. I'm here to take you back to Camelot, where we'll all help you however we can.”

    “All?” Gwen asked, her eyes beginning to tear up.

    “Morgana, and Merlin, and me. I think you know Merlin. Big ears, pasty skin, looks at his feet a lot.”

    “I remember him.” Gwen almost smiled. “I met him first day.”

    “I'm sorry about your father.” Arthur turned serious. “And then this, as well.”

    “Thank you, Arthur.” Gwen whispered.  


  
    Gwen opened the envelope and reclaimed her phone, her bracelet, and her wallet with her school ID. It was awkward sitting in Arthur's pristine, new car. Gwen was used to people their age having older, beat up and temperamental cars that they had saved up to fix, and had once been Great Uncle Tessie's. But of course, most of those people were not going to Camelot. Camelot was the most prestigious school in Albion, even above Tintagel and Joyus Garde though there was a fierce rivalry between the three over which was the better school, the oldest school, etc. Camelot was full of the children of peers, rich old families, occasionally rich new families, and the odd smatterings of scholarship students like Gwen and Merlin. Gwen suppressed a shudder at the thought of money. She couldn't think about that now. She was determined not to cry in the Earl of Edgmont's car.

    “Do you want to go back to the university?” Arthur asked suddenly as the scenery blurred past.

    “What?” Gwen blinked, glancing over at him.

    “I meant that Morgana sent me to get you and bring you back, but we never asked what you wanted.” His eyes left the road only briefly when he spoke.

    It was a considerate thing, she supposed, but somehow cold and alienating. He had been thinking about her, thinking about what to do and how to help—that should be touching.

    “I want my father back.” She said before she could stop herself. Her voice was bitter, choked, and she didn't recognizance it. It wasn't fair, she tried to think. Arthur was helping her, Morgana was helping her, even Merlin. But her mind stuck on 'It's not fair'.

    “It's not fair.” she said to his apologetic silence. “It's not fair, it's not fair, It's. Not. Fair.” She took a deep breath. “And I'm sorry. You're just being kind...No, I don't want to go anywhere else. I don't think there is anywhere else.”

    “It's not fair.” Arthur agreed, his voice very quiet. “Morgana...she said your mum was gone too. Mine died when I was born. My father's all I have. He's not...like most fathers. But...”

    He never finished but Gwen understood. And strangely, that Arthur should love his father, that he should be horrified at the mere thought of losing him—that was more comforting than consideration or compassion. Uther Pendragon did not have a loving reputation. He was cold and imposing when he made impassioned speeches on the telly about people with mental defects. He was often said to work 'tirelessly' for the safety of Albion's people. Gwen supposed that meant long hours and boarding schools for Arthur. But Arthur loved him anyway. Pendragon was behind the laws and the ministry that had dragged her in and asked her over and over about her father, things that made no sense and that she couldn't answer, shouting at her, slamming the table, throwing the water cup. She should hate him, but just then, she didn't. She was glad for Arthur.

    “Thank you, again, for this.” She returned. “I'm not...fit company, and we don't know each other, and I just want to cry and scream and...and...break something. But I am grateful. I meant it, I don't know that I have anywhere else to go. Or anyone else. You really are a knight in shining armor, just now.”

    “Hmph.” Arthur harrumphed. “I am always a knight in shining armor.”

    Gwen almost giggled. She did crack a smile.

    “You, Morgana, and Merlin. You'll be my knights.”

    “Well you are called Gwen.” He pointed out. “Seems only fitting.”

    Gwen looked over at him, some of the weight of dread and loss shifting slightly.

    “Are you missing class for this?”

    “No...” he lied. Gwen decided to let him rather than start on a round of awkward apologies when they had just found a moment of ease.

    “Good. I'm glad I only missed one day.”

    “But...” Arthur began then cleared his throat. “I mean...the funeral...I'm sure the university will let you take time for all of this.”

    “No.” Gwen shook her head. “I'm not going. I don't know if there will even be one. He wasn't mentally defective, but he is accused of helping them. People like that don't usually get funerals. And bad things happen to people who go to them. He wouldn't want that, he'd want me and Elyan to...to...mourn him our own way. Privately.” and the she whispered, “Safely.”

    Arthur didn’t say anything for a long time. She wondered how much he really knew about such things. Did his father talk about his laws over supper or did he refuse to mix politics and family matters? Did Arthur watch his father's speeches on television or was he the first audience to them? Was Arthur sheltered from all of his father's policies and battles or included in them?

    She sighed, suddenly noticing she was exhausted. She hadn't slept—they'd left her alone for hours in the early morning, but it was in the same interrogation room where she'd first been brought. There was nowhere to lie down, and who could sleep in such a place anyway?

Where was Elyan? Her mind bounced around, unable to settle, thinking about whether Arthur had had a pony as a child, and how Elyan loved to play Knight as a kid, and how she had no idea what would happen to their house or her things still inside it.

    Without warning, Arthur asked if she'd like a coffee and she was so startled, she'd said yes before she'd considered. They stopped at a standard coffee chain and come away with steaming beverages and sickly looking pastries. They sat at a table outside, the autumn leaves rustling along the curb.

    “How do you find the peasant fare?” she asked, having trouble imagining that a Duke's son would be impressed by fast food.

    He scowled, “Cheap. But I suppose that's the point.”

    Gwen added that to her mental file on Arthur: joking about his socioeconomic status was only ok if he started it. Sometimes she made conscious observations about people, but more often than not, Gwen just got a feel for them. She could tell that Arthur was a spoiled, entitled elitist. But she could also tell that under all that he was a decent person. His life, and possibly his father, had just piled all of the rest of it on top. The question was, what would he ultimately decide to do? Give in to toppings and let the fudge of expectation and tradition cover him in peanuts, or, stay true to his ice-creamy core of goodness?

    _I need to sleep. She thought desperately, peering at Arthur over her coffee. I've just turned the Earl of Edgmont into a metaphor sundae. With peanuts on top._

    “You're smiling.” Arthur observed.

    “I'm exhausted.” Gwen said defensively. “And my thoughts are muddled. Do you like peanuts on hot fudge sundaes?”

    “What on Earth?” He shook his head. “No. No peanuts, cherries...whipped cream....actually I don't even like the fudge topping, or vanilla ice cream. I don't like sundaes at all I guess. I like strawberry, just plain strawberry—in a cone.”

    “Hmmm.”

    “That reminds me.” He raised an eyebrow. “What was that important question you were going to ask me yesterday?”

    “Oh!” Gwen's face got warm. “That. Well...”

    But Arthur's phone vibrated.

    “Damn.” He said, pulling it out of his pocket. I forgot to let Morgana know I found you ok. Ah, she's livid.” He pounded away at the keyboard for a moment then said,

    “I think we'd better get moving. The sooner she gets eyes on you, the better.”  


  
    Morgana actually did hug her, when they arrived outside the dorm building and she rushed out trailing Merlin. It wasn't warm or comforting, Morgana seemed to be trying to hug her without touching her. Merlin assured her that he had taken careful notes in World History and would happily have them copied for her. It was strange, but the clumsy, awkward attempts of all three virtual strangers made Gwen feel genuinely less alone. Being around them would probably be like juggling cats—they were all so different, but, she was truly grateful to have them all the same. And who knew—maybe, someday, after they had actually gotten to know each other, they might be a real team: real, true friends.


	8. Morgana's Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana reflects on recent events and Merlin turns up with the next crisis in tow.
> 
> MENTION OF CHILD ABUSE, not depicted or given great detail.

Chapter 7

~*~Morgana~*~

    Morgana collapsed on her bed. It had been one hell of a day. Part of her couldn't believe any of it had happened at all, things had all been returned to their proper place like it was all an awful daydream—some kind of vivid worry. Not for Gwen, of course, but for her. It felt like she was exhausted for no reason. But most of her mind couldn't believe it was all over, that somehow Gwen was back.

    That Merlin. His agitation was clear, she knew he had not been involved in the riot. The whole thing had made him deeply uncomfortable, it was as though he really had simply blundered into the information and then used it—but how? How did a Camelot student—a first year student at that— _accidentally_ learn about the largest, most violent riot in almost twenty years? And he hadn't seemed to know it would be riot, actually, he had merely know that something would happen. That was even more curious.

    And yet Morgana's instincts were to leave it alone. She was inherently curious, she could never leave a problem or a question unexplored. She worried them in the back of her mind, for years, sometimes—like why Uther had adopted her, that was always there, grinding away somewhere deep. But this...this was different somehow. She didn't want to question this, she didn't want to question Merlin. There was something about him. He was odd, even before his mysterious information. He didn't feel like other people. He was...quiet. It wasn't that he was soft-spoken, and he could animatedly discuss Doctor Who for hours. It was something else about him, as though most people screamed at Morgana and she'd gotten used to it but Merlin had come and spoken normally to her.

    She stretched and got up to change into her pajamas. Merlin was a puzzle she didn't think she would solve. But Arthur was another matter. She'd been solving Arthur for more than half her life. She wasn't always sure of the answers though. Merlin had thrown off Arthur's equation considerably but even before there were times when she doubted. There were times when his face had shown the possibility of true cruelty. How much of what his father had done to him had become permanent? But then there was Merlin. Arthur was attuned to Merlin like Merlin was the sun and Arthur was in his orbit. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Would Merlin bring out the best or worst in Arthur? She'd never seen Arthur fix to anyone like that. He usually drifted, alone, oblivious, thoughtless.

    She shook her head and mumbled under her breath to calm her mind. Time would tell. The crisis had abated. Now she needed to sleep, with all serious matters tabled for the time being, it would back to classes tomorrow, and her flock of first year girls making silly decisions, getting lost, and not knowing how to use the laundry machines.

And so it did. Morgana went to her classes. She had lunches, dinners, and Doctor Who marathons with Gwen and Merlin—and sometimes some of the other girls on her floor like Gwen's roommate. She sat quietly with Gwen when Gwen needed someone to talk to or just someone who didn't flutter awkwardly around trying to fix that which couldn't be fixed. She met, and instantly hated, Arthur's new girlfriend, Sophia. That one was perfectly nice, really, but there was something about her that set Morgana's teeth on edge—something that made her think Sophia didn't like her. She held back the hair of the girl who had plunged straight into college life the first real weekend, and she told off the girls in 205 for being noisy at 4am.

    After three weeks of this, just when even Gwen seemed to have settled into a routine (albeit one that involved regular quiet grieving time with Morgana when they would talk, or not, depending on their moods), two things happened.

    The first was news of another riot. Gwen had come in to watch on Morgana's computer as people in the capital stormed an historic building shouting and waving signs about the unjustness of the government. Most of it was focused on the OMP and the Department of Public Safety, but there was some general dissatisfaction too.

    “It's like before.” Gwen said quietly.

    “It's worse.” Morgana shook her head. “Last time it was only it was only in Middledon. It was smaller too.”

    “Do you think things will change?” Gwen asked.

    “No.” And then seeing Gwen's face at her tone, she elaborated. “I know Uther.”

    “I don't know what will happen.” Gwen sighed. “I wish people didn't have to be afraid all the time.”

    “Me too.” Morgana said. But despite what had happened to Gwen, she wasn't calling for the dissolution of the OMP. She had grown up being told how dangerous people with mental defects could be, how anything wrong in the brain or mind made people like rabid dogs. She wished things like what happened to her would stop, that OMP could have some other, less dystopian way of dealing with the problem—but she did believe it was a problem. She'd never had any reason to think otherwise.

    Morgana was less sure. She suspected it was because anything Uther said she automatically disagreed with, but Morgana wondered if all people with mental defects were actually dangerous. Even if they were, why was there not some way to help these people? At least people with milder problems? Why was all the money put into containing, hunting, and torturing these people? But of course, Uther was not alone in his thinking. There were others who believed as he did, so the matter was surely complex. And Morgana knew she was young and only beginning her real education. Perhaps there was a good reason for it all, cruel as it was.

    But in the middle of their discussion about the news, a frantic knock came. Morgana muted the coverage, put on her best RA demeanor and opened the door.

    It was Merlin. But he was panic stricken, and stranger still, not alone.

    “Please?” he squeaked out. And Morgana stood aside, utterly perplexed, as Merlin and boy no more than ten, hurriedly came into her room.

    “I found him.” Merlin said.

    “Oh.” Morgana blinked. The boy was staring at her, eyes wide, unblinking, and unnerving. Morgana looked away. She hated staring eyes. But there was something about the boy that softened her discomfort. He reminded her of Merlin. He even looked a little like Merlin.

    “Are you babysitting?” She asked.

    “No, I found him.” Merlin repeated, his voice uncharacteristically annoyed.

    Gwen cleared her throat. “Um, where?”

    “In a stream. That place by the woods near your building.”

    There was a silence then. Merlin, it seemed, went very unhelpful when upset by something.

    “Hello,” Gwen said to the boy gently. There was no response. He just kept staring at Morgana. And so Gwen looked back at Merlin, “Start at the beginning?”

    “I was walking in the woods. Gaius said we are allowed to go anywhere on campus like that. I was looking at the leaves. But then I saw him. He was hiding. It was a good place, I only found it because I thought it looked like a good place to hide and wanted to see it better.”

    Merlin paused and then, looked right at Morgana. “He doesn't talk.”

    Morgana and Gwen drew in a breath. There were two kinds of children who didn't talk: those who had been abused and those who had mental defects. In answer to their reaction, Merlin gently tugged up at the shoulders of the boy's muddy shirt. His stomach was covered in bruises. And Morgana realized that the way the boy moved was wrong, it was very stiff or tentative. Clearly he had been beaten.

    “I don't know what to do. I am afraid Gaius will tell me we have to turn him in. I don't think I can do that.”

    Morgana understood. Seeing the state of the child made her feel protective too.

    “Merlin,” Gwen sighed. “We can't keep him, he needs help. Clearly something awful has happened.”

    Merlin bit his lip. Morgana blinked, but somehow that gesture had decided her.

    “Let's see if we can't find out more about him first.” She said. “It's as dangerous for him as it was for you Gwen.”

    Trauma was like grief in that way. It could make people do strange things, and a certain amount of reaction was deemed acceptable—even normal. But, like grief, trauma was thought to often expose dormant or hidden mental defects. The boy had clearly been abused, and it had caused him to cease speaking. If, once he placed somewhere safe, he did not begin to recover within some regulated allotment of time...things would go very badly for him.

    Gwen went silent and Morgana met the child's gaze.

    “My name is Morgana.” She said.

    The child took a step toward her, but then looked back at Merlin.

    Merlin tapped his foot. It was by now a familiar thing for both Gwen and Morgana, the many intricate rhythms that Merlin tapped with his foot or a pen or anything really. This was one of his most common rhythms. In truth, many people fidgeted so it wasn’t actually strange. Still, when Gwen was nervous and fidgety, it was much more simplistic than when Merlin or Morgana did it.

    After Merlin had completed his rhythm and started to repeat it, the boy turned back to Morgana and pulled up the fabric of his right trouser leg. There was a gory gash there. Gwen gave a little shriek and Morgana was on her feet and digging her first aid it out of her closet before she even knew what she was doing. However, when Gwen tried to clean the cut, the boy hid behind Merlin. He was shaking by that point, plainly terrified.

    “Maybe you had better try, Merlin,” she handed him the kit. “He followed you here, he seems to trust you.”

    Merlin did a number of very strange things: first of he took each thing he was going to use out of the kit and showed it the boy and gave a brief explanation of what it was for, still tapping away, and Morgana came to suspect that the tapping was meaningful somehow, somewhere between a code and merely soothing noise. The tapping seemed to calm the boy, or perhaps it was merely the explanations. Merlin gave clear, specific instructions—to the point that Morgana thought he was a bit patronizing, but the boy sat down and pulled up his trouser leg and held very still while Merlin cleaned the wound. It was deeper than Morgana originally thought and it worried her. Merlin wrapped it in a bandage and then took off his signature red hoody and handed it to the boy. He immediately started playing with the strings—not quite like Merlin always did, but there was something similar there.

    In a way, it was as though Merlin and the boy shared a secret language.

    Merlin seemed naked, almost, without that hoody. He always wore it. Gwen shook her head.

    “Now what?” she asked.

    “Water.” Morgana said. “And food.”

    Gwen volunteered to go down to the vending machines and bring back something. They asked the boy what he would like, but he merely carried on twisting the strings of Merlin's hoody.

    Once Gwen had gone, Merlin said,

    “We can't turn him in.”

    “I know.” Morgana sighed. “But what else can we do? He needs a doctor, Merlin, and then he needs a home.”

    “They'll kill him.” Merlin's croaked.

    Morgana looked at him in alarm. “I don't think...”

    But Merlin was shaking as badly as the boy had been and Morgana did the only thing she could think of, handing him a pen from her desk. Merlin took it and began to click it. _‘He needs that hoody’,_ she thought. _‘It's like my bear.’_ And that was when she realized that the boy didn't actually remind her of Merlin the way he was worrying the hood strings, but of herself. Merlin just pulled them through his hands usually, but the boy was twirling them much the same way she twirled her hair when no one was around. She picked up the old, battered bear from her bed. It had more patches than original fabric, and was missing an eye. She offered it to the boy who frowned at it for a long time before tentatively touching it. Then he took it.

    “May I give Merlin back his hoody?” she asked.

    And the boy nodded.

    Morgana pulled the hoody gently away and handed it to Merlin.

    Merlin opened his mouth, but Gwen cracked the door open, and, checking that the boy would not be too visible to anyone in the hall, slipped quickly inside.

    Gwen might be unsure of the child, even a little afraid of him, but she was not unwilling to help him. She handed the bottle of water and packet of chocolate chip cookies to Merlin, apparently having given up on making friends with the child just then. He accepted both from Merlin and munched silently, stroking Morgana's teddy.

 


	9. Arthur's Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the campus in lockdown, Arthur and Merlin have to smuggle the boy out...and then spend some time in a bush.

Chapter 8

~*~ Arthur~*~  


    And here he was, again, helping Morgana with the most insane quest imaginable. How did this keep happening? Arthur shook his head and looked down at the boy beside him. It was his looks, Arthur supposed, that made Arthur's resolve melt. He had the same dark hair and blue eyes as Morgana. He could be her younger brother. Or possibly her love child with Merlin, for the boy reminded him of both of them. One thing was completely different though: he was utterly silent. They had told him the boy didn't speak, but it was eerie somehow. Even when she first arrived,  grief stricken and miserable, Morgana had lectured him. And Merlin! Bloody Merlin. Arthur had made the mistake of trying to quote something Morgana had mentioned from That Stupid Time Traveling Police Box Show and Merlin had launched into the most long winded rant Arthur had ever heard. And Arthur lived with Uther, for goodness sake.

    Speaking of Merlin, where was he? He was late. There was no room for Merlin to be late. Pretty soon they would be caught and then everything would go from bad to unimaginably worse.

    Arthur’s life had been progressing perfectly. He and Sophia had started dating, and then stopped actually going out and started staying in which was even better. She was fun, easy to talk to, and not demanding. Her only weakness was her strange determination to set Morgana, of all people, up with someone. He had tried to explain that Morgana had never dated, but that only made things worse.

    And that was how he had found out about the child beside him--apparently Merlin had found him. In a stream. Whatever that meant. All Arthur had been trying to do was talk Morgana into a group date, she could bring Gwen or Sophia would bring another friend, and then they would all go see that big new movie that Arthur was even sure Morgana wanted to see.

    It started with the weird excuses but ended when Arthur, worried and annoyed, had gone to her room and she'd tried to keep him out. And now here he was, waiting for Merlin, so they could smuggle the boy off campus, which was locked down.

    “Where are you, Merlin?” Arthur muttered as angrily as he could in a whisper.

    The boy fidgeted beside him. He was wearing Merlin's red hoody draped around him practically screaming their location. But for reasons Arthur was determined not to think about, it was the only way to get him to go with Arthur. He had a marked preference for Morgana and Merlin, Gwen and Arthur seemed to scare him for some reason. She had said she was normally good with children but something about her must have reminded him of whatever happened to him. Arthur, it seemed, was in the same category. It bothered him that something about him was the same as someone who would hurt a child. Morgana had showed him the bruises, the cuts, the burns, the scars. She had looked up some of the markings—she was convinced they'd been electrocuting him. And that, actually, was the reason Arthur was here. Not because the boy looked like Morgana, but because someone had hurt him. Badly and repeatedly. Morgana had her theories on who, and why, but Arthur didn't believe them. Did he?

    Either way the memory of those marks was what kept him rooted to their hiding place, waiting for Merlin, when all he could think about was what his father would say when Arthur was caught. Morgana already had been. She'd tried to get the child out as soon as the campus went into lockdown, but she had fallen out of a tree and sprained her ankle seriously. She was back in her dorm room, biting her lip to shreds like she always did when she was extremely upset, and waiting to find out what would happen next. Uther was furious with her. There was no proof she was involved with the child—he'd stayed in the tree and Morgana had needed medical attention, throwing around the Pendragon name to make sure the Campus Safety officers didn't look around much. But she had no real excuse for why she'd been trying to sneak off campus. She'd made something silly up, something that sounded like something a college age girl would do—it might have involved a party or a boy, Arthur hadn't paid attention, but Uther knew her better than that. And worse, either way she was in danger of being dismissed as an RA and Uther hated scandal—even the college variety.

    “Arthur?” a voice called, low and anxious.

    “About bloody time.” Arthur spat as Merlin came into view. “You're late.”

    “I know.” Merlin replied. Arthur repressed the urge to hit him, Merlin was full of unsatisfactory responses.

    “Right, well, get on with it.”

    Merlin was there to disable the security at the fence. When they were making this plan, Morgana had had to convince Merlin that circuits were like rivers, and then they spent a day in the library where Morgana had managed to hack one of the computers dedicated to the catalog so that they could look up security specifics online without anyone tracing it back to one of them. It was like a bad movie.

    Morgana was good with computers and electronic devices and might have been able to take on the cameras and gate without much study, but, she'd already been caught out of her dorm and she was on crutches. Arthur could do basic searching, email, chat, and his homework. He couldn't learn it in time. Merlin, it turned out, could. If Morgana made the whole thing relate to water (which would have been the weirdest thing Arthur had ever heard, except that described most of everything that had happened since Morgana had told him she couldn’t go on a group date because she was considering becoming a nun). Arthur was involved because he was stronger and faster and would pick the child up and run him outside to meet some underground network that helped runaways like him.

    As Merlin worked, Arthur tried not to stare at his fingers and keep a look out but the dim light from the display made them look longer than usual. Arthur was appalled at what the stress was doing to him, making him notice how Merlin's fingers were both graceful and yet purposeful. Stress made you think the strangest of thoughts, even, apparently, wondering what those fingers would feel like on the inside of his wrist.

Arthur gave a little shudder. From stress. Obviously.

    “ _Mer_ lin, will you hurry up!” he hissed, annoyed at everyone involved, except, possibly, the abused child. Merlin ignored him but finally there was a strange noise and the gate slid open.

Merlin said, “Remember, you have to let Arthur carry you while he runs and you can't make a sound.”

    The child didn't respond but Arthur scooped him up as gently as he could and ran. He wasn't heavy, which was not surprising given the condition he was in.

    He ran along the path that lead into one of the overflow parking lots for the stadium. He would then have to skirt the lot and make it across the main road. The hardest part was going to be getting back in—there wouldn't be much time before someone noticed the cameras were out around the fence and the lights were off in the lot.

    He set the child down when they got to the road. Merlin had told him, about eleven times, to tell the child what he was going to do before he did it—even if it seemed obvious.

    “I'm going to take your hand so we can cross.” He said feeling a bit silly. But the boy let him and walked with him when told. Once on the other side, they made their way to a little book shop and, ignoring the closed sign, walked right in.

    Inside were six people, dressed in dark colors, waiting anxiously. Arthur let go of the child,

    “You're safe now. I have to go or I'll get caught.”

    The child stared up at him, wide blue eyes unfathomable.

    “What's you name?” Arthur asked him, realizing that, having been told the child was mute, he had never really tried to talk to him.

    “Mordred.” came the small reply.

    Arthur stared back in shock, but he didn't have time to puzzle over it. He nodded at the people who were calling the boy over, and, feeling very strange, left the shop.

    He dashed back across the road and onto campus. The lights around the lot were still out but he pushed himself harder, not wanting to chance anything. He made it in time though, and Merlin hurriedly turned it all back on and checked that they had left no trace. Both had worn gloves to avoid leaving prints, and they started to silently creep back toward the path that went toward Arthur's dorm. Merlin had been trapped on campus since the lockdown, unable to get back to Gauis's cottage. Rather than draw attention to this fact, he had been staying in Arthur's room. Leon, as ever, didn't ask a lot of questions, and Merlin had just stammered that he didn't want to cause a fuss when something so important was going on.

    “Tss.” Arthur hissed, grabbing Merlin's arm and pulling him off the path and into a row of shrubs. Merlin fell into him and Arthur cursed his clumsiness, sure that when the flashlight carrying person came by there was sure to be a Merlin shaped collection of broken branches. But he pulled Merlin farther in and crouched down with him. At least Merlin had managed not to yell when Arthur had grabbed him.

    Merlin was staring at Arthur's shoes, which was how Merlin usually stared at people. Arthur couldn't risk whispering and just pointed in the direction the light had been and waited. Eventually Merlin's breathing sped up and Arthur knew he could see it too. And so they stayed, limbs growing stiff and falling asleep, pressed close, as someone on patrol swept a flashlight lazily back and forth across the path, looking for signs of the escaped, mentally defective child.

    Arthur watched the light until he couldn't stand the suspense. His eyes flicked to Merlin's face. He was still, so impossibly still. Merlin was motion, it seemed. Always tapping, fidgeting, pacing, he even tossed in his sleep, but the only part of Merlin that moved now was his eyes as they came up to meet Arthur's for a fraction of a second. Arthur swallowed and tried to make his own eyes flick away like Merlin’s had. But looking at Merlin was distracting him from the fear that, any second now, they would be caught. Merlin was, at first glance, sort of like an elk. He wasn't as big or powerful, but he had that thrown together look, as though instead of being finely sculpted, he was built from spare parts. Probably it was the ears, really, they were so....distracting.    

Arthur stared at Merlin's face, and his ears, his neck, and then he forced himself to look up because it seemed as though it should have happened by now if it was going to. Sure enough, the light was past them, still too close to risk moving, but no longer a threat. Arthur struggled not to relax his muscles in relief.

    Ears like Merlin's were ridiculous when you first saw them, but, if you actually took the time to study them they were perfect. They looked very good in the dark, like when he slept on the floor next to Arthur's bed at night, or, right now. And eventually you realized they went perfectly with his face, despite what you may have originally thought. And actually Merlin was nothing like an elk at all. It all came back to his ears, not just the ears themselves, but that soft place behind them that could have hidden by ears flatter to Merlin’s head. But no, it was right there, above his jaw, so exposed, taunting his suddenly dry mouth. Arthur darted his tongue out to moisten his lips. Of course Merlin chose that very moment to steal a glance at Arthur, his eyes straying from Arhtur’s own to follow the motion. Arthur would swear he heard Merlin's breath hitch.

    Arthur swallowed.

    Merlin gave a little twitch.

    And then, when Arthur thought he would lose his mind between his foot being asleep and the insanity induced by Merlin's ears, he realized the light was gone.

    “I think we can move.” Arthur whispered. Merlin made a funny sound which Arthur supposed must be relief. “Slowly, carefully, and above all quietly.”

    “I'm not an idiot.” Merlin grumbled.

    “No, you're clumsy.” Arthur snapped back, pins and needles shooting through him as he disentangled himself from Merlin and the shrub.

    Merlin made another noise, this one angry.

    Gingerly, they made their way back to the path and tried to walk out the stiffness and other unpleasant feelings as they crept back to Arthur's room. Leon, very fortunately, slept with headphones on. Merlin retrieved the loose paving stones from the path to build a shaky platform and Arthur very carefully climbed back in the window. Merlin replaced the stones and with great awkwardness but little noise, climbed and was pulled into the room by Arthur.

    Both sets of hands were sweaty and both of them were full of frustrated adrenaline from their near miss and the night's desperate mission. It was all Arthur could do after struggling to get Merlin inside, not to haul off and punch him when Merlin fell into him again. It was unreasonable but his pent up energy was screaming for some kind of release. Fight, flight, freeze, or fuck. Arthur's first instincts were usually fight, but that wasn't an option. They'd wake Leon. There was no where to run and he needed to do something not freeze again. That left a wank in the shower. He sighed, shoved Merlin off him, and stormed out, grabbing his towel from the back of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is, actually, a merthur fic I swear it just....it has a lot else going on as well.


	10. Merlin's Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin struggles to cope with hiding who he is during the lockdown and what's happening between him and Arthur. He also meets an unexpected ally.

Chapter 9

~*~Merlin~*~

    Merlin was in chaos. For one thing, everything that happened since he'd found the boy in the stream had thrown off his routines completely. First it was just taking care of him and hiding him while they struggled to figure out what to do. That was bad enough, but then the lockdown happened. The first day no one was allowed to leave wherever they were when the lockdown started. But when, somehow, Morgana had kept them from finding the child that first day, they had to to relax things so students could eat and sleep. There had been a curfew and no one was allowed onto or off campus. Merlin knew Gaius had to be sick with worry but he had had the sense not to do anything, the last thing Merlin ever needed was attention drawn to him. Even if Merlin hadn't been involved with the target of the search, it would have been too dangerous to go making a fuss to Public Safety about how he lived off campus. He was a first year and that wasn't allowed. The few older students who had apartments off campus were staying in the upper rooms in the Union, but Merlin was too afraid someone would notice if he tried to stay there. Gaius had managed Merlin's situation very carefully, involving some touching anecdotes and a lot of careful flattery. If anyone actually pulled Merlin's housing file the university would notice, and Public Safety would be potentially interested in him and Gaius.

    So Merlin had spent the last three days with no relief at all. The arrangement had been that when he was on campus he had to pass as normal, but inside Gaius's house he could be himself. He needed that. He needed to be able to relax, to be able to do all the things that brought him peace and balance, the things he needed to live. But instead, he'd been sleeping on Pendragon's floor. If there was a less safe place in all of Camelot, Merlin couldn't think of it. But what could he say? It seemed the natural thing to Morgana and Gwen so that Merlin could stay close by, and they could plan. It even seemed to make sense to Arthur, though he'd made a show of being imposed upon in front of the girls. Still, Merlin was going to tear his own skin off soon if something didn't change.

    And worse (how could anything be worse?) Merlin had just caught the Duke of Somerset's son staring at him. They'd been crumpled up in that shrub, and he just knew, without looking, when Arthur's eyes had found his face. He had made himself look to confirm it. Merlin didn't look at faces much, but he had watched television and seen movies, he knew what a lot of faces meant. The face Arthur made when he had been looking at Merlin? That one turned up in romances a lot.    

And then he had stormed out to take a shower in the middle of the night. Oh they were sweaty and dirty from their adventure, but Merlin wasn't stupid. And he knew it wasn't pure clumsiness that caused him to keep falling into Arthur. But then, Merlin thought he _must_ actually be stupid because he was an inch away from turning into a flailing, shrieking mess and here he was attracted to the Duke of Somerset's son.

    Who definitely was also attracted to him. But attraction was just attraction. The way the fact that they could work together to smuggle an abused child off campus was just good teamwork, they couldn't stand each other normally. Besides, Merlin had seen Arthur's girlfriend. She was perfect, so even though Arthur obviously swung both ways....it didn't mean anything.

    But Kilgharrah's voiced echoes in Merlin's head, 'Latch on to him boy! And don't let go.'

    Merlin bit his pillow. Arthur's pillow, actually. Which meant he really should not be biting it, but it was that, or start a round of hysterical laughter. He wondered if Arthur would wash the pillowcase after Merlin left. Surely he would. But if he didn't, he'd have his face smashed into Merlin's dried saliva.

That thought did not help suppress the hysterical laughter.

    Merlin was still trying to do his breathing exercises when Arthur came back. To his horror he realized he was still biting the pillow. He braced for Arthur to say something, to tell him that was disgusting and to get out of his room. Arthur just stepped over him, but he didn't get into bed. He opened his wardrobe and then something fell on Merlin.

    It was a hoody.

    Arthur climbed into bed without a word.

    Merlin's hoody was still on the boy, wherever he had been whisked away to by the people Gaius had contacted when Merlin had broken down and told him just before the lockdown. Morgana had been letting the boy carry around her childhood bear while they she sheltered him in her room, but Merlin knew what he had to do when they were making their escape plans. The bear was irreplaceable. It had been given to Morgana by her father. His hoody was, in the end, just a hoody. Not to him, of course. To him it was The Hoody, the only hoody, the right hoody, the hoody his mother had given him in his last year of school so that he would have something harmless and normal to cling to at university that would connect him to familiar things. But that paled next to Morgana's bear. And if anyone was going to need something to cling to, it would be that boy.

    He'd escaped from a Care Facility. Not like Kilgharrah—Merlin suspected one of the workers at the facility had let the boy escape, maybe even just dumped him. As a child he would have been kept in a different sort of place than Kilgharrah. The adult facility being more of a prison. From the looks of the child, it was even worse. Which is why, in combination with the boys youth, Merlin thought someone had let him go. Kilgharrah had been housed somewhere for convicted dangerous criminal defectives. The boy had come from a place where infants and young children were sent when it was either so obvious that the parents couldn't hide them, or the parents didn't even try. Eventually he'd been tracked to Camelot, and the campus had been locked down.

    Merlin pulled Arthur's hoody over next to his head and tried to see what color it was in the dimness.

Red.

Merlin had seen Arthur wear it once, but had gotten the impression Arthur didn't like them to match and had stopped. It wasn't Merlin's hoody. It was heavier and it didn't have pockets in the front, but Merlin slipped it on, zipped it up, and pulled the strings through his hands. It did help. Though it left Merlin pondering what had just happened. Deciding he couldn't afford to worry about it, Merlin resumed his breathing exercises, and gradually found the place as close to sleep as he could get in such a strange place, on the floor.

  
  


    Merlin actually skipped his lectures the next day. There was no point, he reasoned, since he couldn't learn anything in the state he was in. He made his way to one of his favorite places to relax. The campus was large and there were fields of wild grass in some places, parking lots in others, and more than one relatively secluded clusters with ponds or streams. One of these was where he had found the boy. Merlin chose one on the other side of campus. At first it was just the peace of knowing no eyes were on him. But gradually, as he unwound his taut nerves, he flopped right down on the ground and started humming. It wasn’t a tune, just a monotone of one of his thinking rhythms. But he could lose himself there for a moment, solid ground under his back, control in his ears, his hands busy with the strings of Arthur's hoody. His feet tapped the air along with his humming.

    “You really need to be more careful.” A voice interrupted his solace like a sword sliding between his ribs. Merlin stopped moving, breathing, even thinking, as the cold panic knotted in his stomach.

    “This is, what, the third time I've covered for you?...Sorry, I probably startled you.” The voice said next, incomprehensible in Merlin's ears. He knew what he would look like, twitching on the ground like he was having a fit. He knew what he would sound like—like a caricature of a person with mental defects. There was nothing he could say to get out of it, it would be clear to whoever had found him exactly what he was.

    “Oi, you ok, mate?”

    Merlin dimly processed what the voice had said, but it didn't make sense so Merlin stayed still as he was tried to figure it out. But he realized he still wasn't breathing, which was probably a bad thing. He took a deep breath and made himself sit up and look around for the owner of the voice.

    There was a young man in uniform, standing about five feet away.

Uniform: campus security.

Merlin shook his head.“Covered for me?”

    “Well, and your friends.” The man said, coming a few steps closer. “The girl and the boy in the tree. She fell out, but I helped make sure no one looked in the tree. Then there was you and the blonde bloke when you smuggled him out. That should count as twice though, because I noticed you disabling the gate and I came by while you were hiding in that stand of shrubs. Now this.”

    “I don't understand.” Merlin replied honestly. He was still panicking, eyes flicking around for exits, weapons, dragons who might eat this strange man...anything. He was also considering throwing up.

    “The picture and story they released to the students is not the same as what they gave us.” The man explained. “Any chance that kid had to get away, he deserved.”

    “Yes.” Merlin said, still fighting through this. “Do you mean you're on our side? You’re not going to turn me in?”

    “Yes, I do.”

    “Why?”

    “Why...hmm. Well, first it's the boy. We all know what goes on in Care Facilities in the abstract, but most of the time we don't have to think about it. Then they gave out this picture of a little kid—a tortured little kid and go on about how dangerous he is. How can a child be so dangerous as to warrant that kind of treatment? And how can someone so badly treated pose any real danger? No I didn't like it, it was cruel and extreme. Then, the students who find him don't turn him in but risk everything to help him? That means two things to me. First, that he didn't seem dangerous to you, but more importantly, that you and your friends are decent people. That means even if you're mentally defective, you're one of the good ones. If you can risk it all to help him, I can too.”

    Merlin stared at the man’s black uniform boots.

    “Hopefully that means I'm one of the good ones too?” the man asked.

    Merlin pondered this. “You're...not...?”

    “Not that I know of.” The man shrugged. “Just a mediocre guy.”

    “Thank you.” wonder colored Merlin’s voice.

    “No problem. I'm Lancelot, by the way.”

    “Merlin.”

    “It's good to meet you, Merlin. Next time you have to smuggle abused children off campus in a lock down, give me a heads up, yeah?”

    “Sure thing.” Merlin smiled.

 

    “Never do that to me again.” Gaius exclaimed when Merlin stumbled through his door three days later.

    “Rrr.” Merlin growled and stomped off to his bedroom. Gaius and his worries would have to wait, Merlin had to decompress. Probably for a year and a half after that all the insanity.

 


	11. Gwen's Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen meets Sophia and Lancelot.

Chapter 10

~*~Gwen~*~

    “And that brings us to the legendary Queen Guinevere.” Professor Momounth said clicking through to the next slide. Arthur caught Gwen's eye and they both suppressed a giggle.

    “We all know the story, of course. Once, back in the depths of antiquity but usually placed somewhere in the early medieval period, Albion was fractured between several different Kingdoms. These were eventually united under the rule of the ‘Guinevere The Great’. Most impressive though, is how she came to the throne as she was reportedly born a peasant. She married the son of the King in a Cinderella fashion, but before any children were born to the pair, he was killed in battle and she inherited the throne in one of the most uncommon successions known in history. Beloved by her people, she was wise, compassionate, fair, and strong. She did not conquer the other Kingdoms, but as tales of her greatness spread, the people in other kingdoms rose up to demand her as High Queen. Under her reign, two decades known as the ‘Great Peace’ were the most prosperous and innovative of Albion's past or present. There is, of course, a touch of magic in this legend, with help apparently being periodically given by a Sorcerer called Merlin, who is sometimes also credited with putting her on the throne in the first place. All magic aside, however, we now must ask the question, how much of this beloved legend is likely true. Well...”

    “Your Majesty,” Arthur gave a mock bow to Gwen as the lecture ended. Arthur was the best when he was joking and happy, he could be the funniest person Gwen knew when he was like that. He was careful around her now, the way people were because of her father. So while Gwen knew he could be snappish and impatient when nervous from watching him with Morgana and Merlin during their plans to sneak the child off campus, he had taken great care to remain pleasant to her. It made it hard to think of him as a real person. He was gorgeous, funny, and was especially nice to her. She knew why, knew it wasn't because he liked her particularly, but it could be as blinding has his good looks.

    “Gallant knight,” She acknowledged with great dignity.

    “I assume you were named for the Queen.” Arthur smiled.

    “Well, sort of. I think I'm actually named for some great great grandmother or something, but I suspect she was named for the Queen. What about you?”

    “Family name.” Arthur said. “Every generation of Pendragons always has at least one Uther, Arthur, or David. Sometimes all three.”

    “My dad once told me there was a family legend that we were actually related to the Queen.”

    Arthur's eyes went wide and he swept another bow, Gwen slapped him on the shoulder in embarrassment as the last of their classmates filed out of the hall.

    “Not directly. From her brother or something.”

    “Did she have a brother?” Arthur asked as Gwen finished putting her things in her bag and he walked her out.

    “Well it's like Professor Mormounth said, we really don't know for sure that far back. She might have, and if she did anyone might be descended from him. It hardly matters now though.”

    “I suppose...” Arthur responded thoughtfully.

    “I'm as common as one can get, Arthur.” She reminded him gently.

    “And so?” He asked, seriously. “The first Queen was too. Who knows, maybe Merlin will turn out to actually be that old wizard, immortal after all! Perhaps he'll even restore the line through you, Queen Guinevere II.”

    Gwen could hardly talk from laughing. “My name is Gwenhwyfar, actually.”

    “Same thing. Almost. Close enough.” He insisted.

    “Ok, but do you really think Merlin is an all powerful, immortal magician?”

    “He's weird enough.” Arthur pointed out. “And that's why! Oh my god, we've figured out his secret!”

    “Arthur!” a pleasant voice called. Gwen looked around curiously, still grinning and choking on mirth. A pretty girl was hailing Arthur, she looked amused by them.

    “Sophia!” Arthur called as the girl came over. She was extremely pretty and seemed to almost match Arthur, like they were playing cards. The King and Queen of Hearts.

    “Gwen this is Sophia, my girlfriend. Soph, this is Gwen, she's in my history lecture and recitation, and one of the only people ever to be both my friend and Morgana's at the same time.”

    “Impressive.” Sophia responded, her eyes going all soppy when Arthur called her his girlfriend, but seemed to be genuinely pleased to meet a friend of Arthur's.

    “Will Gwen be joining us for lunch?” Sophia carried on smiling.

    “Oh.” Gwen shook her head. “No, I have..study group...” She didn't, but she was certainly not going to be third wheel with the Earl of Edgemont and his probably equally rich and well bred girlfriend.

    “I'll see you tomorrow then.” Arthur said, taking Sophia's hand.

    “Nice to meet you.” Sophia and Gwen called in unison.

 

    “I don't like her.” Morgana complained for what must have been the fifth time.

    “You keep saying that.” Gwen shook her head. “If I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous.”

    Morgana snorted.

    “I do know better.” Gwen said. “But honestly, I couldn't see anything wrong with her. She seemed....nice.”

    “Too nice.”

    “Can people actually be too nice?”

    “Yes.” Morgana muttered, but then sighed and checked the time. “Oh, Merlin mentioned he's bringing a friend along.”

    “Should I be worried?” Gwen asked, trying to keep her voice light.

    “About...?”

    “The last time Merlin turned up with someone...”

    “That was different.” Morgana assured her. “And not likely to happen again. Besides, it all worked out.”

    “You're on probation.”

    “And? I don't care about being an RA, I only did it so I could have my own room in the second year.”

    Gwen shook her head. “You could have been expelled, or worse. We all could have.”

    “We weren't. I did keep you as far from it as possible, considering you're probably on some kind of watch list.”

    “I know...” Gwen hugged herself.

    As the two friends made their way to the hall lounge, Gwen thought more about how Arthur had called Merlin weird. He was, a bit, though Gwen found Morgana and Arthur weird sometimes as well. They just didn't think of things the same way. It was different when your whole future wasn't as bound up in one-shot opportunities like scholarships to Camelot. Merlin was like her, he knew how important being careful was. If he got in trouble there would be no legacy-laden name to protect him, and no second chance at some equally prestigious university.

    All thoughts left her head when she saw Merlin's friend. If Arthur was the perfection of the blonde haired and blue eyed look, this man had perfected Greek God. Gwen caught Morgana's eye, the latter merely raised an eyebrow. Gwen had no idea if Morgana even liked men. When Gwen asked if there was a boyfriend or anyone Morgana liked, Morgana just said no. She never even made comments about which Doctors or Companions she thought were hot. It didn't matter though because unless she was much mistaken, Merlin's very hot friend was checking Gwen out as well. Gwen's cheeks grew hot. Luckily, Merlin seemed oblivious and affected introductions.

    Lancelot, it transpired, had never seen any Doctor Who which he explained by being twenty-two and thus not quite the right age when the show had been re-introduced.

    “It sounded very silly to me then.” He shrugged. “And no one thought it would last.”

    There was a bit of a disagreement over how he should be introduced with Merlin favoring starting at the actual beginning, back with the first Doctor when everything was black and white and Morgana thinking it would be better to hook him with the beginning of the reintroduced series first, while Gwen though they shouldn't worry about going in order and start with their favorites stories.

    “Oh Gwen, you are a dear, but left to you the world would fall to chaos.” Morgana shook her head.

    Of course, in the end Morgana got her way for her idea was ruled the best compromise. And thus Lancelot was initiated into Whovianism.

    “Will you be joining us next week, Lancelot?” Morgana asked, after three episodes and several pieces of pizza.

    “I'm not sure...I don't think I'm strictly supposed to...mingle with students.”

    “I suppose I can see why, but that sucks.” Gwen sighed.

    “Have you ever considered applying to Camelot?” Merlin asked.

    “Oh...well...” Lancelot looked flustered. “Yeah, actually I did but...”

    “There must be something for university employees though.” Morgana cut in, rescuing him from having say out loud that he had been rejected for the scholarship program, and thus couldn't afford it. Lancelot clearly came from a working class family like Merlin's or Gwen's.

    “There are different...classes of employees.” Lancelot explained. “Plenty of positions come with opportunities for reduced tuition on classes, but the lower level positions like certain janitorial, kitchen, or security positions...not so much.”

    Gwen opened her mouth to say something about how unfair that was, but Lancelot met her eyes with a smile and said:

    “I do get dental though. It's not all bad, and in a few years I'll probably be eligible for some of the training that will get me bumped up to a Campus Police job, and that, eventually, could lead to the tuition benefit.”

    Gwen found herself uncharacteristically mute, there was something about Lancelot that made her awkward and tongue-tied.

    “You are an excellent role model for hard work and dedication.” Morgana remarked. “The next time one of my residents wails about it all being too hard and how she's thinking of giving up and going home, I'll use your story to guilt her into actually cracking a book.”

    Eventually Morgana ran out of ways to dodge Sophia's determination to set her up, and thus Gwen found herself roped into a group date with Arthur, Sophia, Arthur's roommate Leon, Morgana, and a friend of Sophia's named Gili. Gwen had expected to hate it, she had been harboring a bit of a crush on Arthur, after all, so watching him nuzzle at Sophia should have made her miserably jealous. But oddly, all she could think about were Lancelot's dark eyes.

    Then again, perhaps it did make sense.. Sure, Arthur was basically a fairy tale Prince in so many ways, but he was thus totally out of her league. That was made clear when he and Sophia flirted about violins. Gwen didn't understand how anyone could flirt about violins, but she'd never been in the same room as one. They'd both had private lessons growing up. Lancelot, on the other hand...well, there was that pesky fact that he probably would lose his job if he dated her, but he was more down to earth. More...normal.

    Morgana and Gili did not get on.Gwen felt like an outsider, of course, but not in a bad way. It was like watching a nature documentary or a play--she was separate, not truly involved with these beautiful people.  Leon, Gwen was secretly pleased to discover, actually had a girlfriend and had just been asked to come by Arthur to even out the numbers and make sure he didn't spend his whole semester in their room skyping said girlfriend. He made for good company with no designs or expectations. They laughed as Gili and Morgana bickered, and Arthur and Sophia made-out. It wasn’t something she thought would become a habit--that would be weird. Besides, Morgana would resist it at all costs, but Gwen thought of it as adding to her collection. Camelot was her time to collect very specific memories, like getting up her nerve to talk to Arthur at all. Camelot was her chance to acquire the very best education and secure herself a comfortable and hopefully rewarding future--but it was also her time to rub shoulders with Duke’s sons and daydream about forbidden security guards.

    Once she was back in her room however, she was greeted by the dark cloud of her grief. She could be very good at refusing to think about certain things for short periods. She could play the carefree university student for a few hours. But then, when it was over, the fact that she’d gone out and laughed made her feel horrible. How could she laugh or have fun when her father was dead and her brother vanished? How could she go out with Arthur and Morgana when her grades were now a manner of life and death for her? The state would like to seize her father’s meager estate--if she was lucky they would allow her a survivor's allowance. But everything depended on her making her mark now, getting the grades, making contacts with professors….even her chances at seeing her brother again might ride on her ability to support herself in the future. She knew she couldn’t live only by studying, that she needed down time and her crying sessions with Morgana, but a deep anxiety and guilt crept in and choked her heart in her quiet moments. There was such a difference between the logical things she knew, and her tormented emotions.

    More than anything, she wished she could call her father. He would reassure her, tell her what she needed to hear, help her through her doubts and fears like he always had. Except now he couldn’t. He would never chase away the monsters again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not a reincarnation fic, but I like the idea of exploring how Albion would have remembered the events of the show.


	12. Arthur's Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin discover a pattern in their interactions but the confrontation doesn't go the way Arthur expects.

Chapter 11

~*~ Arthur ~*~

    With rotating lab partners, it was inevitable that Arthur and Merlin would eventually have to work together. They tended to avoid each other, only talking when their lives collided via Morgana or Gwen. Arthur felt protective of Gwen after what happened to her, and she was kind and easy to be around, so he was happy to be friends with her. Morgana was maddening but family. Merlin was excellent to have around for ridiculous situations, even if he was clumsy and sometimes maddeningly literal, and closed mouthed when information was needed, and long winded when Arthur couldn't care less about something. But when there wasn't a crisis, they were forever at odds.Arthur tried to give him a chance, he really had tried. Given how useful he was, how well he got on with Morgana and Gwen, Arthur had wanted to be, at the very least, comfortable acquaintances.Except Merlin was self-righteous and hypocritical. He looked down on anyone who wasn't a scholarship student until they passed some internal test of intelligence he was conducting. You could just feel him judging you.

    “You're doing it wrong.” Merlin's voice was flat, resigned to Arthur's stupidity. Arthur set the scalpel down to keep from driving it through the hand Merlin had resting on their lab book. Nothing was guaranteed to make Arthur feel murderous like that tone.

    “Then you do it, _Mer_ lin.” Arthur growled through clenched teeth.

    Merlin shrugged. “There's no point now, it's ruined.”

    He was right, of course. When the TA came by to see Merlin staring at the book and Arthur vainly trying to carry on, she sighed and explained that Arthur had chosen the wrong arm of the starfish. She did scold Merlin for not noticing either, which had him squawking indignantly.

    “I did! I tried to tell him.” then, as she shook her head and walked away, Merlin huffed, “it's not my fault he's a...clotpole.”

    Thy only satisfaction was that, as they got no credit for their dissection, Merlin's previously perfect lab grade was ruined. Unfortunately, so was Arthur's. This put them both in a foul mood as they took notes on the echinoderms that the other groups had dissected.

    “You are doing it again.” Arthur snapped. Merlin sighed, long suffering, and stopped clicking his pen. “Not that. Though...that too.”

    “What then?” Merlin hissed.

    “Everyone makes mistakes, I screwed up the starfish, it's not the end of the world. Are you perfect?”

    “Mistakes have consequences, and not just for you.”

    “I'm sorry, alright?”

    “You don't sound sorry, you sound angry.”

    “I am angry.” Arthur ground out.

    “Gentlemen.” Val cautioned, hushing them as several heads turned to look their way.

    Merlin shot Arthur's pen a dirty look. Arthur had never minded when Morgana had been young and wouldn't look him in the eye, but for some reason he found it intolerable in Merlin just now. He stomped his foot down on Merlin's. Merlin sucked in a breath, but didn't react otherwise.

    “I'm angry because you are infuriating.” Arthur said when they had been dismissed,  the others taking up conversation as they shuffled their belongings into their bags. “You just waited to point out that I did it wrong, and then didn't even do anything.”

    “There was nothing to do. I can't mend a starfish that's been mutilated so you can try again.”

    Arthur just grunted in frustration. Merlin could never see how his actions affected other people. He could never see that all he had to do was not act so superior. Arthur decided to be kind and try to explain it to him. He probably never really had many friends, after all. Maybe as a kid, he’d been sweet and kind but his vocabulary and ease at school work caused the others to tease him. Over time he turned what got him picked on, into something to be proud of. Maybe it was all just a defense mechanism, and he just had no idea how to deal with people now that they were all out of grammar school and more mature. Maybe Merlin just needed someone to be patient with him.

    “Look, you put people off when you do that.” Arthur said, regaining a semblance of calm. “If you just used a different tone, or tried to be more understanding, then I really would be sorry instead of pissed off. I ruined both our lab scores, I know that. I should be sorry, but right now I think you deserved it. I can't be the only person you've ever pissed off like this.”

    “No.” admitted Merlin. “But I don't see why it's always my fault when other people actually make the mistakes.”

    “It's not your fault about the starfish. But...it bugs you when people make mistakes right?”

    “Yeah.”

    “Well it bugs me when you make it seem like I'm an imbecile. All I'm saying is that if you didn't do that, maybe I wouldn't spend so much time imagining punching your face in.”

    Arthur could tell that Merlin wanted to answer back, probably something about if Arthur didn't act like an imbecile maybe Merlin wouldn't treat him like one. But he caught himself and just let out a long breath. Well, that was progress wasn’t it? Maybe there was hope yet.

    “Maybe...I'm coming at this from the wrong angle.” Arthur rubbed his chin. “You don't have this problem with Gwen or Morgana, and I don't mean to be conceited, but I don't think either of them are all that much smarter than me. So what's different when one them makes a mistake, and when I do?”

    Merlin considered this as they left the room and walked toward the stairs.

    “I'm not sure Morgana has ever made a mistake when I was around.” He mused. “And Gwen...” he shrugged. “She usually just says 'Oh!' and apologizes, so then I get flustered and apologize to her because whenever she uses that voice I feel like stepped on her puppy.”

    “So that's it...it's like a knee jerk reaction for you or something, and then if the other person reacts submissively you realize you were an arse and apologize. But if the other person stands up to you, then it becomes a battle for dominance.”

    “What?” Merlin asked, completely horrified.

    “Well, what do you think?”

    “I think you're a prat.” Merlin said. “It's like that day when you somehow made it my fault you're a great bullying git, instead of yours for not being able to handle not tripping people who annoy you. You screwed up the dissection and now suddenly it's my fault for not treating you better. Which is just typical because your whole life everything has been about you, hasn't it? Got in a fight in school and it was the other kid's fault, failed a test and it was the teacher's fault. It's never your fault is it? It's always other people. You never accept responsibility for anything. The real reason you're angry is because you're angry at yourself for messing up, but you can't handle it so now it's my fault when I didn't even do anything.”

    Every drop of sympathy burned away as Merlin spoke. Arthur grabbed Merlin by his own hoody and shoved him into the wall. Merlin gave a small, ironic smile as his head cracked against the brick.

    “Always knew this would end with punching.” he croaked, voice pained.

    Arthur punched the wall instead, and then swore, releasing Merlin to cradle is bruised hand.

    “Fuck you.” He spat, glaring at Merlin. Every time he was ready to hit Merlin, something always got in the way. Merlin was always disarming, and it was an insidious trick. He had thought Merlin was worth making an effort with, but clearly he he been wrong.

    Merlin closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. “You missed. You are a rubbish bully. If you're going to break your hand at least do it on my face.”

    “Fuck. You.” Arthur repeated, daring to try to move his fingers. Bruised, not broken.

    Merlin just leaned against the wall, eyes still closed, breathing in deep and regular patterns like he did when he was trying to fall asleep. And despite everything, Arthur was sorry. Arthur had never met anyone who could create such a rollercoaster of rapidly changing reactions. Merlin drove him mad, but he had this feeling Merlin was an arse because he was distracted. It was like trying to talk to people when you had a headache or were hungry, sometimes you were rude accidentally and you really didn't mean to be. Something was going on with Merlin, always there, underneath, boiling away. He wasn't what he seemed, and Arthur should know it by now.

    “You are rubbish at being bullied.” Arthur finally managed. “You should have run by now.”

    “No point.” Merlin said, still not opening his eyes. His hands were at the hoody strings though. “We just keep doing this. Sooner or later you have to hit me.”

    “You could hit me.” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin laughed hollowly. “I tried that once, back in year six. Broke his nose. Thinking about it almost makes me throw up even now. I'm not good at violence, it makes me sick.”

    “I'm not going to hit you.” Arthur fell back against the wall next to Merlin.

    “You probably should.” Merlin whispered. “There's no point putting it off. Plus, aren't you going to sneer at me for being weak?”

    “No...” Arthur tried to match his breathing to Merlin's. It was calming. “Do you want me to hit you?”

    “Sort of.” Merlin finally opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

    “What the hell?” Arthur muttered.

    “It's just...I'm used to it.” Merlin explained. “It's...normal. People usually like me or hate me, and it's like you do both because one minute you're telling me I'm heartless and the next you're giving me your hoody. I don't know how to deal with that. It's...unnerving. I don't know what to expect from you.”

    “Fuck.” Arthur swore. He suddenly felt like it was his head that hit the wall because that was all manner of messed up. “I don't hate you at all.”

    “You do.” Merlin insisted. “I make you want to stab me with things.”

    “Fuck.” Arthur repeated.

    “You are incredibly articulate.”

    “You're...” Arthur began, but stopped. “You're Merlin.”

    Merlin didn't say anything.

    “Look...I really don't hate you, you just...I guess it's the same thing for me. I'm used to people behaving in certain ways, and usually when people act like you do, I do hate them. But you're not like that all the time. I mean, you were a jerk today about the starfish, but you were absolutely selfless with Mordred.”   

    “Mordred?”

    “That kid...you know...” Arthur cleared his throat suddenly looking around.

    “How do you know his name?”

    “I asked, Merlin.” Arthur said patiently. “You lot said he didn't talk but when I asked him, he told me.”

    “He did?” Merlin seemed surprised and even a little hurt.

    “Yeah.”

    “Huh.”

    “Now who's articulate?” Arthur smirked.

    “Shut up.”

    “But anyway...” Arthur shrugged, unsure what to say. “I don't hate you and...you don't really think I'm an idiot, right?”

    “Not...really.” Merlin said uncertainly. Arthur snorted, but Merlin went on, “No, and I don't hate you either.”

    “Is this going to be a pattern, do you reckon? We make small steps, then fuck it up and end up in this stairwell, with me threatening violence, and then we realize we're both idiots and take another tiny step? So what, by the time we finish we should finally be able to have a conversation reliably without bickering?”

    “Or you'll give in and turn me into pulp.” Merlin said.

    “I swear I won't.” Arthur said seriously. And he realised it was true. He really wasn’t going to hurt Merlin, no matter how infuriating he could be. He never had been going to, not really. He wasn’t even really sure why Merlin got under his skin the way he did.

    Merlin just looked darkly at his own shoes.

    “So...” Arthur started.

    “So, how about try to avoid each other whenever possible.” Merlin said. Arthur frowned, this was not where he'd though this conversation was going.

    “I'm not sure...”

    “I think it is a pattern and I think we're going to keep unsettling each other. We're in different programs, we mostly have different friends...if we can get through this semester, it shouldn't be so hard to just not see each other. If we only meet occasionally it will be easier to stay civil.”

    Arthur felt like the expensive rug in his father's office was being tugged out from under him again, like when he had seen his father show the human concern for Morgana he never had for Arthur. After Merlin had disarmed him with that ironic smile, he thought things were leading toward them being friends, so how did it turn into this?

    “Alright,” he found himself saying, the words tasting sour. “Yeah, that should work.”

    “Right.” Merlin said, stepping away from the wall. “Good. See you next week then.” And he scampered off.

    Why did Arthur feel like everything had just turned to ash?


	13. Morgana's Chapter Tweleve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana and Arthur go home for Fall Break but an unpleasant surprise for Morgana turns up.

Chapter 12

~*~Morgana~*~

    Morgana rubbed her forehead, counting to ten mentally.

    “Arthur, I am not going out with you and Sophia again.” she said into her phone as calmly as she could manage. “I don't understand why you even want me to.”

    Arthur responded, but Morgana couldn't focus on his words, he always said the same nonsense anyway about Sophia not wanting to leave her out, or them being concerned that she get out and have fun occasionally or whatever.

    “Parties are not fun.” She sighed in reply to whatever Arthur had blathered. “And if you had any sense you wouldn't be going either, midterms are next week.”

    Again, whatever he said to this refused to filter through to her brain in actual words, but a nagging concern made her focus enough to get the gist.

    “I'm serious Arthur, you have to be careful. Not just academically...”

    “Nevermind, Morgana.” Arthur hung up in a huff.

    It had been like this the last few weeks. Morgana couldn’t figure it out, on the one hand it was easy to blame Sophia. Sophia was the cause of all evil, Morgana was sure, but there was something else too. Arthur wasn't just being led around...he wanted to be. Or worse. Morgana kept telling herself she was overreacting, but she'd seen a few people self-destruct her first year. Usually it was kids whose families put too much pressure on them, people with names and legacies and money who really wanted to be footballers or be poets or marine biologists but whose parents demanded lawyers or doctors or politicians. To be fair, sometimes the scholarship kids cracked as well—they were under as much or more pressure, even if it was different.

    If she was objective about it, Morgana thought that Sophia was only taking advantage of a situation. Arthur had gotten some dark twist inside his normal personality recently all on his own, and Sophia was just guiding him toward the variety of destruction she preferred. And really, was this the worst that could happen? Morgana had always worried that Arthur would turn out like Uther. Which was better, that he drown his decent heart in loud music, Sophia, and alcohol—or that it turn black, and cold, and corrupt?

    Morgana shivered. It was warm in her room, but she looked out at the few leaves still clinging to the trees. She needed to go to the library and meet her Computer Science group for that damned group project. She hated group projects.

    After midterms, there was a week long Fall Break. Neither Morgana nor Arthur were excited to return to Pendragon Castle, nor were they interested in spending much time together. Arthur could get moody at times, that wasn't actually strange. He'd never been a warm, cuddly foster brother. And Morgana knew she too could be prickly and difficult (and would have been horrified by a warm, cuddly foster brother). They just usually took it in turns, but Morgana had said one wrong thing after another to him about Sophia, the parties, the drinking...all of it and now he was completely set against her. Morgana was furious with him as well. And worried. Uther tolerated her rebellions, challenges, and bad behaviors—oh he punished her, but there was a difference. There had always been a difference. Uther did love Arthur, Morgana had no doubt, it was just that Uther's capacity for love was a shallow, manipulative, disapproving puddle. And it meant he was unyielding and unforgiving with Arthur. Uther's love meant Arthur had to be perfect. Uther's fondness meant Morgana had to be nearly perfect. That was the difference. Luckily for both of them, Uther wouldn't be joining them until Albion Day.

    That gave Morgana a strange span of time in which she could be alone. She knew she should do her homework, but she devoted a whole day to staying in her room rereading some silly book from her school days. It cheered her somewhat, reminded her that when she reached her majority at twenty-one, she would be Marchioness of Exeter and able to do something. She wouldn't graduate Camelot until after her twenty second birthday, so she had about two and a half years left to figure what that something was. She really had no idea. But while her actual power and wealth would be nothing like that of Uther, she would finally be free of him.

    Albion Day was supposedly the day that Queen Guinevere had been crowned Queen Sovereign (as opposed to when she was crowned Queen Consort). Technically at that point Albion was still a group of disjointed kingdoms and chiefdoms, but it had become their national holiday anyway. Elsewhere, and before she come to live with Uther, it was a happy occasion where friends and family came together for a feast and some traditional games.

    Morgana took great pains to be as polite and sweet as possible no matter what Uther or Arthur said at dinner, which was not hard as both said little. When she cared to, Morgana could actually be Uther's perfect little ward. It had taken years to learn it, and she seldom bothered, but it came in handy sometimes, and she found she had no energy to fight with Uther this time. Besides, he was still displeased about the part where she'd tried to sneak off campus during a lockdown, and nearly broken her leg.

    She got her reward for her good behavior the next morning when Uther summoned her to his study. When Arthur entered Uther's study, it was like he was still a child. He and Uther had some strange formal dance that let Arthur know his place. Morgana, on the other hand, was fully aware she wasn't a child anymore, and had never developed a real pattern for the times Uther summoned her. Except increasing resentment.

    “G-” Morgana had begun a disdainful greeting but was brought up short. Uther was not sitting behind his desk as he always was. He was sitting in front of it in one of the chairs that Morgana or Arthur usually sat in, but, he wasn't facing the desk. He was facing the occupant of the other chair: Professor Muirden.

    “Professor, what a surprise.” Morgana recovered. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

    “Good morning,” he inclined his head, but kept his gaze on Uther and did not answer her question.

    “Professor Muirden has expressed some concerns regarding your recent course work.” Uther said.

    Morgana bristled. “Oh? Forgive me, Professor, but you have not indicated this to me. I do believe it is customary to first come to the student, particularly at university level.”

    Professor Muirden lowered his head, “Normally yes, but...it was the nature of my concern. I thought it might be prudent in this case to make inquiries of your guardian.”

    “It's nothing you've done wrong, Morgana.” Uther put in. “And I think he was correct in coming to me, as it is, ultimately, my failing as your guardian.”

    “Oh just tell me already.” Morgana snapped.

    “Morgana.” Uther warned, but she ignored him and turned to her professor.

    “So?”

    “Your writing skills are very technically correct, as is much of your information, and your conclusions are insightful, but I have noticed a certain...dated influence in your work.”

    Morgana just starred. What did that mean?

    “Professor Tudgen is an old friend of mine,” Uther sighed. “I let affection cloud my judgment. As your guardian I should have made sure to acquire the services of the best tutor available. Gaius is a good man, but he was educated some period ago.”

    “There's nothing wrong with Gaius.” Morgana said flatly.

    “No, no,” Professor Muirden shook his head. “I have nothing but the greatest respect for Professor Tudgen. He taught me too, when I was at Camelot. However, you must understand that all disciplines grow and change over time. New information, new theories, new ways of examining past assertions...it's important to study both traditional views and more modern interpretations. I merely noticed that your work indicates a real favoring of the traditional. I thought of asking you about it, but I began to notice it seemed more than your mere opinion and might indicate an actual lack of awareness of certain developments. I confess, I rather thought the source of the issue might be His Grace, given his rather formidable reputation as a traditionalist.”

    “That I am, in many things, but I do believe in making informed opinions.” Uther said mildly. “And as such, I think it would be best if Professor Muirden took over as your tutor.”   

    When Morgana was eight years old, her world had fallen apart. Then events conspired that Uther should stomp about on the ruined pieces. As such, Morgana supposed it wasn't a mystery why she hated unexpected changes to her life. She had learned to cope with the expected kinds, like going to university, and even many of the things Uther had insisted on over the years like flute lessons—but only if she had some warning. When she didn't, she usually resisted. Forcefully.

    “Gaius has been my tutor for years.” She said, trying to keep her voice from rising. “I'm sure if we just tell him about your concerns he'd be happy to look into new developments and ideas with me.”

    “Morgana.” Uther said.

    “I'm nineteen years old.” Morgana fairly shouted. “And I am tired of you making all the decisions for me! I like working with Gaius.” She turned to Professor Muirden, “Thank you for bringing this to my attention but I would appreciate it if in future you brought your concerns about my work to me, as it is only to do with me.”

    And with that she stormed out, slamming the door.

    Morgana tried to calm down enough to look up whether or not Professor Muirden had violated University Policy in telling Uther. Surely he had. While a number of privileges were not legally conferred until age twenty-one—like hereditary title or other inheritance—many others were granted at eighteen. And Morgana was sure that the University extended some of those to students who were still seventeen when they started.

    When Morgana had been enrolled in her new school after coming to live with Uther, her first term report had indicated that she excelled half the time and failed the other half, but that there was no subject correlation. The Headteacher had indicated that she often saw such a pattern with very gifted students who were bored. Uther's answer had been to hire Gaius as her tutor, with the idea that if she was failing because of some deficit, he could find and correct it. Or, if she were not being intellectually stimulated enough, he could provide her with extra materials to study, and teach her to do her best regardless in school. Gaius, of course, stumbled onto the third possibility. It wasn't that any of the work was too hard or too easy, not in the extreme anyway, but that sometimes Morgana knew what the teachers were asking her to do and sometimes she didn't. Gaius helped her learn how to better understand people. He taught her how to watch others to get an idea of what she was supposed to do if she didn't know. He helped her with her actual school work too sometimes, but mostly what Gaius taught her had to do with people.

    Now they met twice a year, unless she had some difficulty and needed immediate help, to make sure she was on track. But Uther had never actually asked Gaius what he taught Morgana, as near as she could tell. He merely took her next term report as proof of success, and let them alone. And the more she thought about it, the less Professor Muirden's words made sense. Not only did Gaius not actually instruct her in content, she tended to favor modern viewpoints and innovations. What was he playing at?


	14. Merlin's Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin rescues Arthur for the first time...by falling out of the closet.

Chapter 13

~*~Merlin~*~  
  


    Merlin hated parties. He had always assumed he would, but had never been to one until recently, and he had been right. The music made his internal organs vibrate, and all the noise made him want to pass out to escape the insanity. Words echoed around in his head--disconnected and reverberating until he considered clawing his own ears off. Of course, that wouldn't help, since the organs of hearing were not the fleshy bits he could get to, but over-stimulation often made him irrational.

    And then there was the touching. Already tonight one girl hand come up and put her tongue in his ear, a guy had slapped his butt, and a different girl had giggled that he looked just like that actor who played Loki and Sherlock while clinging to his arm. This was absurd as Loki and Sherlock were played by different actors who not only did not particularly resemble each other, but neither of them looked much like him either. Maybe Sherlock, sometimes, from the right angle...if he were being objective.

    But then Merlin spotted Sophia and Arthur. They were the reason he was here, and hating them both passionately. Not a day after he had managed to put some distance between himself and the Duke of Somerset's son—needed and important distance, since Arthur was bound to put two and two together eventually—Merlin had gone to one of his quiet, outside places. He had since given them up, they were clearly not safe, but he had chanced to overhear something and had been trailing Sophia ever since.

    “I don't like it.” A female voice had floated through the leaves. “We agreed on the long con for a reason.”

    “I know, my pet.” An older male voice had responded. “But after that lock down, I just...I can't wait like this. I need to see you settled, safe.”

    “Father, everything is going well. Arthur  likes me.”

    Which is when Merlin had recognized the voice. Sophia, Arthur's pretty girlfriend.

    “Yes, now, but for how long? You're a charming, lovely girl. Sweet. But men like that...”

    “But this...first of all, if I do this, you really think Somerset won't have me looked into? He'll think I'm just a low-class nobody trying trap his son. Because I will be.”

    “Sophia! You are not low-class nor a nobody! Y-”

    “Yes I am! Now, anyway. I know why, father, I know why we are doing this. I know who I should be, but look at me. Right now, all I am is a pretender. If we play it slow...do it right, Somerset's investigation of me will be cursory. I'll charm him too, I know I can. But if we move now, there will be no way. And if he finds...”

    “He won't. There's nothing to find.”

    “You really think he wouldn't invent something to save his son?”

    “You're not killing the boy, for heaven's sake, just seducing him.”

    “You're underestimating Somerset. This will work if we stick to the plan.”

    “I'm merely asking you to step up the timetable, my dove. You must understand, during that lock down...I was terrified. If you marry Edgemont, you will be untouchable. As it is now, you are so vulnerable, so exposed...”

    “I don't...I don't want to do it yet, father. I know I have to eventually, but I wanted to wait until I was...older. I know it's only a year but...”

    “Sophia, my dearest child, I do understand. But until you go through with it, I will be tearing my hair out. And the money won't last forever...”

    “I know!” Sophia had snapped. Merlin wasn't sure he understood what they were talking about, but whatever it was, Sophia was now frightened and angry.

    “Please...” her father’s plea had been almost too soft for Merlin to hear.

    “Fine. I'll start. It will still take time.”

    “Thank you, my dear, thank you. I will sleep so much better tonight knowing our goal is that much closer.”

    Sophia did not answer, but Merlin heard movement. He supposed she'd left in resigned annoyance. Merlin had been relatively sure Sophia was already sleeping with Arthur, so eventually he worked out that Sophia was going to get pregnant. Merlin thought about that for awhile, testing it with what else he'd heard but it seemed to fit. The other part though, seemed to imply that Sophia was in some kind of danger or trouble with the law. The obvious choice was that she was in some way classed as mentally defective. If she was, Merlin was impressed. She seemed more normal than he did, certainly. But it was more than that, there had that bit about whether or not she was a low-class nobody that Merlin couldn't make any sense of.

    Merlin agreed with Sophia though, he wasn't sure what the original plan was exactly, but it sounded like she was supposed to have waited to...'have an accident' he supposed, until at least next year. Longer would be better, better yet if she could have waited until their final year, last term. In that case, if she had managed to be Arthur's girlfriend for his whole time at university...it wouldn't look too bad if he married her and they had a baby. Though Merlin agreed with Sophia on another thing too, he thought they were underestimating Somerset. Sophia's father seemed to think Arthur would lose interest though, and he had mentioned money. Merlin had a full scholarship, but he supposed Sophia didn't. All in all Merlin didn't think much of the plan. It seemed very old fashioned. Though the peers could be about such things. Still, Merlin didn't think Arthur would end up marrying Sophia. Dukes had ways of dealing with girls like Sophia, he was sure.

    But while he tried to put it out of his mind since it was such a terrible plan, and none of his business...it wouldn't leave him. First of all, if she succeeded in getting pregnant, that put a child into the mix. Some poor child, created to be used as a pawn. That was wrong. Then there was the fact that, while Sophia had agreed to go through with it, she didn't seem to want to. So that was wrong too. But the biggest part in Merlin's mind was Arthur. How would Arthur feel about it all? Every scenario his brain ran, from Arthur fighting with his father to marry her, to him dumping her flat out without Somerset even knowing, also came up: Wrong. The whole thing, from beginning to end, was wrong.

    He'd struggled about Mordred. He'd been committed to helping the child and not turning him in right up until the night he needed to help Arthur disable the fence. It wasn't so easy endangering himself to that degree, but more than that, Gaius and his mother too. If Merlin was ever caught there would be no question that he'd been sheltered and protected. Harboring someone with mental defects, failing to turn in or report someone even suspected of it, was a crime. They made examples of such people. And then there had been Mordred himself, with his staring eyes. At first all Merlin could see was an abused child, someone just like him, who hadn't been so lucky. But those staring eyes. No one stared like that. People like Gwen and Arthur made eye contact, sometimes sustained, and people did stare when surprised or fixated, Merlin knew this. But Mordred...he had just stared and stared. In the end though, Merlin had already come too far to turn back. He'd already involved Morgana, Gwen, and Arthur. He had already made his choice, really, and so he finished what he had started. That was right.

    And so was this, being here at this party, and generally following Sophia around whenever he could get away with it. He had no idea what he planned to do, no idea what exactly she planned to do. But going to Arthur and telling him was out of the question. Their relationship had deteriorated completely since the fight in the stairwell. Arthur didn't hit him or trip him or pin him to any more walls. He ignored him much of the time, but he sometimes sneered. Sometimes he turned up in strange places, looming with that big bloke Cai and they would laugh when he went by. No, Arthur would be in no mood to take Merlin's word over Sophia's.

    Arthur had changed since the fight. It was alarming. Merlin wondered what his part in it was, because before it Arthur had seemed...relatively decent-- for a Duke's son. But he had since turned into exactly what one expected him to be. And then Sophia had started dragging him to these parties. And by dragging, Merlin meant sweetly suggesting so Arthur could jump at the chance. But Sophia at least made a certain amount of sense. She had been ordered to find a way to trap Arthur into marriage more quickly,and her strategy seemed to be to establish a routine of Arthur getting drunk on weekends. Merlin supposed that would make it easier to convince Arthur not to use a condom, and make him seem irresponsible. Somerset was more likely to believe the pregnancy an accident if Arthur had been known to be partying. Maybe. Not that Merlin thought it would matter.

    Sophia and Arthur were dancing now. Merlin wasn't a fan of watching Arthur's hands slide around her waist and hers up through his hair, but when they did that they were Very Distracted. Being at the parties was a risk, because if Arthur noticed he might find it odd, or object. Though the parties Sophia selected were not the exclusive kind. Despite playing a rich, minor Lord's daughter, she favored the kind of parties where strangers were not questioned. So while Merlin loathed the experience, he was usually able to find some out of the way niche to watch from. He sincerely hoped that Sophia hadn't actually started yet. He had a feeling she wouldn't keep drinking herself after. So far he'd been banking on her caution and reluctance to buy him enough to time to figure out how he was going to prevent the whole fiasco. But there was no guarantee.

    Arthur disentangled himself from Sophia, planting a sloppy kiss on her neck. He wandered away toward the bathroom while Sophia crossed to where all the drinks were. She poured some soda and something alcoholic into two of those red plastic cups and then—Merlin's heart raced. She definitely dropped something into one of them. Merlin wondered what it could be about. Was she going to make it look like Arthur had drugged her? Or was it something for Arthur? Merlin didn't know much about specific drugs. Drugs were just  wrong  and that was all he really cared to know about them. But it clearly meant something was going to happen tonight. He'd started to wend his way through the dancing, chatting, kissing bodies toward Sophia. He didn't have a plan but knocking that drink on the floor seemed like a reasonable place to start. But then Arthur came out of the bathroom, and if he turned his head just a little...Merlin opened a door and ducked inside. That had been close but now what?

    Merlin began to panic as he realized now he would have no idea if Sophia's plan was to drug Arthur to make him more out of it, or to make it look like he'd date raped her. But then the door started to open. Merlin glanced around and found he was in a bedroom. He bolted for the wardrobe and crammed himself inside just as two people stumbled into the room. This was even worse. If he hadn't have panicked, he could have calmly dealt with whoever came in. But it would be very strange to come out of the closet at them now. Or not. Everyone was pretty drunk. Maybe he could just fake being an insane drunk person himself.

    The people were murmuring at each other, soft, intimate noises. Merlin rolled his eyes. He'd better get out before they got naked. But:

    “Oh, Arthur.” Sophia whispered.

    Merlin froze.

    “Mmm.” Arthur responded.

    Now what? On the one hand, he was now perfectly placed to stop Sophia from doing...it. On the other, there was no possible way to explain why he was hiding in a wardrobe waiting to stop Arthur from having sex with his girlfriend.

    “Yes....there...ohhhhh.” Sophia moaned.

    Merlin was instantly bright red, his face and neck hot. How did he end up in this situation?

    There were sounds, movement, giggles, and he was pretty sure they were in bed now. So...when exactly was the right time to burst out and interrupt them? Embarrassment froze him in place and slowed his brain.

    “Condom.” Arthur growled, low, incredible.

    Merlin squirmed.

    “Silly, it's already on. Come on Arthur, now...”

    That, of course, was his cue. Merlin toppled out of the wardrobe.

    Sophia gave a little shriek of fright and started clutching things to cover herself. Arthur just stared, lazily up at him.

    “You're not.” Merlin squeaked, pointing wildly at Arthur's crotch.

    “What the bloody hell?!” Sophia demanded. “How...why...”

    Merlin had forced himself to confirm it before stating it again. Looking down he saw that, yes indeed, Arthur was as bear as the day he was born. And incredible.

    “You are not wearing a condom. It's a trick. She's trying to trick you.”

    Sophia stopped attempting to retrieve her shirt without exposing herself.

    “What?” she tried to sound indignant, but it was more frightened.

    “It's a plot.” Merlin babbled on. It was really too much, standing here, with them both naked. Arthur's eyes, huge in the dim light, fixed on Merlin, looking lazy and content instead of hostile.

    “She's been getting you drunk so she can get pregnant and try to make you marry her.”

    “Don't listen to him Arthur.” Sophia turned back to Arthur. “He's...crazy. Probably drunk or high. Why don't you show him out?”

    “Merlin.” was all Arthur said. Sophia sighed, Merlin had a feeling she had drugged Arthur. He smiled at Merlin. “Hi, Merlin.”

    “What have you done to him?” Merlin demanded.

    “Nothing. You're wrong, you've had too much of something. You need to leave, Merlin, isn't it? Please leave Merlin.”

    “No.”

    “I'll scream.” Sophia said.

    “Go ahead.” Merlin shrugged, bluffing. What else could he say? “But if this goes official, I'll tell them everything and even if they don't believe me it will ruin your plan. But they probably will when they do blood work on him.”

    “He took it himself. Likes to walk on the wild side, our Arthur.”

    “He's not yours.” Merlin retorted.

    “Sophia is pretty.” Arthur put in.

    “What, and he's yours?” Sophia asked. “Is that what this is about? You're jealous? Look, Arthur, it's not just the girls you drive wild with those looks and all that money. It's gay boys too.”

    Arthur turned to look at her, squinting, then back at Merlin. “Gay.”

    Well, at least it seemed unlikely that Arthur would remember Merlin coming out of the closet so literally, but it also meant he wouldn't remember what Sophia had been up to.

    “In fact,” Merlin said, pulling out his phone. “I think I'll call Campus Security right now.”

    Lancelot. Lancelot might just be the way out of this. Was he working tonight? If he was he might not have his phone on him, but Merlin didn't want a record of this if at all possible.

    Sophia tensed, but then she shrugged. “Go ahead.”

    Merlin did.

    “My name is Merlin,” he said to Lancelot's greeting and question about the call. “I'm at 34 Heron Lane, appointment B. My friend's girlfriend gave him something strange and I think she's trying to damage his reputation.”

    Sophia had gone white. “No, Merlin, listen...”

    “What the hell Merlin?” Lancelot breathed. “Are you serious? Why aren't you calling the official number?'

    “Merlin is pretty.” Arthur slurred, stretching out. But Merlin didn’t even hear him.

    “I don't think he's in any immediate danger but there may be a serious scandal if no one does anything.”

    Sophia dropped the sheet she'd been clutching and dove for her clothes.

    “Alright, alright. You owe me an explanation, but I'm on my way.” Lancelot sighed.

    “Yeah, I'll stay on.” Merlin replied. Sophia bolted out the door.

    “Sorry Lance.” Merlin adopted a more normal tone. “It's a long story. Arthur's girlfriend really has drugged him, and really was going to create a scandal, but that conversation scared her off.”

    “Is Arthur alright, what did she give him?”

    “I have no idea.” Merlin confessed, “But the plan wasn't to hurt or kill him, she needed him alive and he's...conscious, I guess, I mean he sort of talks. And breathing and all that.”

    “Check his pulse anyway, see if it's weak or erratic, keep an ear on his breathing, make sure it isn't too fast. And check his temperature. I'll be there soon, and then we can decide what to do with him.”

    “Right.” Merlin replied wondering what to do about the fact that Arthur was still naked.

    “Sophia thinks you're gay.” Arthur purred unhelpfully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god this was fun. I am embarrassed.


	15. Gwen's Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen agrees to do Merlin a favor and then takes some Doctor Who to Lancelot.

Chapter 14

~*~Gwen~*~

    You could almost see the energy draining out of Merlin as he sat on Morgana's folding chair in the corner by the window.

    “What's wrong?” Gwen asked as the closed the door and sat on Morgana's bed. “Are you ok, Merlin?”

    “He's fine.” Morgana replied. “Arthur, on the other hand...”

    But Morgana's face wasn't concerned, not really, it was more....triumphant? Gleeful?

    “What's happened to Arthur?” Gwen demanded, directing her question to Morgana. Merlin was incredibly intelligent, and, on occasion, even articulate, but not when anything interesting was happening. Then he clammed up. Plus, he sort of looked like he might be dying of exhaustion.

    “You recall I may have said I didn't trust Sophia?” Morgana asked sweetly.

    Ah, gloating. That's what that face was, Morgana was bursting with 'I told you so'.

    “Oh I don't know,” Gwen sighed affectionately. “Maybe once, in passing.”

    “I was right.” Morgana replied, a wicked grin spreading across her features. Gwen was mildly disturbed to think this was the first time she'd seen Morgana smile all the way to her eyes.

    “The whole thing was a plot.” Morgana continued. She seemed to be doling it out slowly, as if to savor it. “All this time the plan was to get close to Arthur, get him to lower his guard, and then take photos.”

    “Photos?” Gwen humored. She could see where it was going, but Morgana was enjoying the build up.

    “Of Arthur. In compromising positions. To sell to tabloids or blackmail him with.” Morgana finished, then leaned back, relaxing, basking.

    “That's awful!” Gwen bit the inside of her cheek. Because it was. Since Morgana found it funny, Gwen guessed the plan went awry, but it was still a low thing to do to someone.

    “Help.” Merlin wheezed feebly. Then he sneezed.

    Morgana handed him a tissue from the box by her elbow.

    “I'm getting there, Merlin.” Morgana soothed. “Merlin overheard Sophia plotting all this with her father. Then he started following Arthur to parties to stop it from happening, which he did tonight. Sophia drugged Arthur and Merlin and Lancelot had to cart him back to his dorm. Which is why Merlin is such a wreck.”

    “Is Arthur alright...?” Gwen asked, frowning. It made sense, she supposed, Arthur wasn't likely to pose for the pictures. It might be the fashion for young people to take nude pictures, but someone like Arthur would have been taught from birth about upholding his image and protecting the family name. Besides, pictures of Arthur clearly intoxicated would be more scandalous, worth more money.

    “He's sleeping it off. Lancelot checked him out, and Leon is keeping an eye on him. He should be fine sometime tomorrow.”

    Gwen's frown deepened, she wasn't quite sure how Morgana could enjoy any of this.

    “Help.” Merlin repeated, coughing weakly.

    “...Are you sure Merlin is...?” Gwen asked.

    “Yes, he's just relapsing.” Morgana assured. “We'll send him home in a minute. But first, we need your help. Arthur isn't going to remember much of what happened, at least not clearly. It would be best if you could tell him that it was you who overheard the conversation Sophia had with her father.”

    “I don't understand,” Gwen looked from Merlin to Morgana. “Why do you need me?”

    “Because,” Merlin began miserably. “Arthur and I are not on the best terms. He might not believe me, and even if he did, it just...” He trailed off and then sneezed. Morgana handed him another kleenex.

    “Look at him Gwen,” Morgana cooed. Gwen knew that tone, it was the tone Morgana always used when she was trying to wheedle something. “He's ill. Are you going to make him face Arthur like this?”

    “What? No, it's not...” Gwen sighed. “I'm just trying to understand. I don't mind doing a favor for Merlin at all, even if he wasn't sick I would. I just don't want to lie without knowing why I'm doing it.”

    “It would be even worse coming from me.” Morgana said. “Since I never did like her and tried to talk to Arthur about, you know, everything leading up to this. Besides, Arthur knows I'd have stormed in myself and dragged Sophia out by her hair, so, it has to be you. You would be nervous about confronting anyone, and be more concerned with just stopping it from happening. You, conceivably, might ask Merlin to keep an eye on things while you tried to find better proof than just what you've overheard.”

    “So you really just want me to say I overheard this conversation rather than Merlin, that's it?”

    “And then asked Merlin to go check it out, yes.”

    “I guess...I can do that.”

    “Thanb'oo, Gwen.” Merlin mumbled.

    “How bizarre.” Gwen muttered as she shook her head. Morgana shrugged and Merlin looked like he was going to dissolve into a puddle.

    “You were fine earlier today.” Gwen pointed out. “I've never seen anyone get so sick so fast.”

    “Not sure I ever really...got better last time.” Merlin closed his eyes. “Relapse.”

    “Adventures don't agree with you,” Morgana said. “Probably the stress. That weakens your defenses.”

    “Stress.” Merlin repeated.

    “We need to get you home.” Gwen decided.

    “Home.” Merlin agreed.

  


    “Thank you for helping with that. Merlin was adamant that his involvement be kept as minimal as possible.” Morgana clicked around on her computer. “Plus, I bet Arthur took it all better coming from you anyway. You're better with people than Merlin is.”

    “It was no trouble, but I wonder what it is with those two...” Gwen mused.

    Morgana hesitated before commenting on what Gwen had said. Sometimes when she did that, Gwen thought it was because Morgana was actually thinking before she spoke like you were supposed to, but often she felt Morgana was deciding how much other people could know and who to trust with what. Gwen couldn't resent it though. Morgana had let Gwen sob all over her despite hating to be touched. She'd orchestrated the whole project to get Gwen released, and since then had done everything Gwen had needed her to—even when what Gwen wanted wasn't just someone to listen, but someone to talk. Morgana wasn't one to open up much, but when Gwen really needed to hear it, Morgana would talk about the death of her own father.

    “I'm not sure.” Morgana tapped her fingers on the desk. “But I think they are too similar in some ways, though neither see it. But while Arthur can be the worst stereotype of a peer, it's all ignorance with him and hardly ever any actual malice. Merlin can be....blunt and harsh sometimes, even judgmental, but again, it's like he just doesn't understand how to talk to people. He never means any of it the way it sounds. So they've both got good hearts wrapped up in stupid, cruel words.”

    “So, basically: they're boys.” Gwen said.

    “Yes, quite.” Morgana smirked. Her computer gave a little ding! “Ah, there we are. I suppose you'll be volunteering to take this to Lancelot?”

    Gwen's face warmed at Morgana's teasing tone. “I...that is...”

    “Oh Gwen.” Morgana smiled. “Forbidden love? How delicious.”

    “No...it's...” Gwen struggled to regain her ability to be coherent. “Just a crush.”

    “Mmm hmm.” Morgana set the DVD in a case and labeled it in her clear, sophisticated hand.

    Gwen cast her mind around for a change of subject.

    “I suppose....that explains why Sophia was so keen to set you up with someone. At the time I thought she was just...well, I mean, you did grow up with Arthur so you know him really well but you're not related and you're gorgeous so...she was trying to keep you out of her way.”

    Morgana looked horrified. Gwen smiled at her revenge.

    “But now, I suppose it was to distract you. Apparently she gave up on that and just hoped you wouldn’t interfere.”

    Morgana sighed, closing the DVD case. “She needn't have worried, everything I said to Arthur only made things worse.”

    She handed the case to Gwen. “Now, off with you. Go see your knight in shining armor.”

    “Merlin is the knight in shining armor.” Gwen corrected, getting up and moving to the door. “He's the one rescuing damsels in distress.”

    But Morgana did not smile as she said thoughtfully, “Arthur is rather, isn't he?”

    It was an odd moment, and all Gwen could think to say in reply was, “Isn't everyone?”

 

 

    Morgana downloaded episodes of Doctor Who, legally, and then burned them onto a DVD (also quite legally) she then lent them to Lancelot (still legally) with the understanding that he could return them whenever, preferably never (not actually illegal). Sometimes Merlin gave them to him, or even Morgana herself once or twice, but usually, Gwen did. Lancelot was very apologetic about the restriction that kept him from actually hanging out with them, even though they had all agreed it made sense—and more importantly, no one wanted to get him into trouble. Morgana and Merlin were adamant, however, that this not keep him from Who. No one, they agreed, should be kept from Who.

    They never actually spoke about what Merlin had told them about Lancelot; that he had been on duty during the lockdown and had looked the other way, or actively led the other security off their trail. Merlin hadn't even actually told them, he'd passed them a note after that she and Morgana had read. He then colored over in black marker and shredded into bits, which he threw away partly in the trash in their hall, and part he said he'd handle later somewhere else. But it wasn't even that weird at that point.

    The whole thing had been like a spy movie—everything from hiding the boy in Morgana's (and once Gwen's) room, to Morgana hacking into the library, to sending the Arthur and Merlin off to smuggle the boy out. Gwen had been petrified the entire time. She couldn't afford to be caught near anything even remotely connected to mental defects—let alone actively helping a fugitive!

    But the marks on him... No one deserved that, not even the most hardened, soulless sort of criminal that killed people and ate their hearts. And certainly not that little boy, so Gwen had helped.

    Adventure didn't agree with Gwen, it gave her nightmares, but it actually made Merlin sick. He'd come down with a terrible cold after they'd helped the boy, and Arthur had complained about him coughing the last night Merlin spent in Arthur's room. Then Merlin had actually missed classes, which, anyone could tell, caused him at least as much pain as his illness. Luckily, it was a weekend this time, and he had a day to recover. She wondered how it affected Morgana and Arthur. Did they have nightmares? Or were they immune because their connections made them feel safe?

    DVD handoffs happened in the Student Union. Merlin had suggested they do it in the woods so no one would see, but Morgana pointed out that that was highly suspicious behavior, and Gwen had pointed out that it was actually sort of plain crazy. Lancelot agreed that really, it was much better to just have someone stop by the desk when he was on duty, hand over the DVD, exchange pleasantries, and thus behave like actual people. Gwen agreed wholeheartedly.

    It also meant that every so often, Gwen had an excuse to see Lancelot, ask him about his shift, tell him a few trivial things about her classes, and then leave. It wasn't much in terms of an opportunity for building even a friendship, and yet, Gwen loved those moments. They were so blissfully normal. Then she was just an ordinary eighteen year old girl with a crush, looking for any excuse to even talk to the handsome young man. Just any old college girl, pining after a guy who didn't even really know. And it was so very, very safe. After everything that happened so far, safe was something Gwen couldn't put a price on.

 


	16. Arthur's Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur copes with the aftermath of Sophia's plot and tries to make friends with Merlin.

Chapter 15

~*~Arthur~*~

 

    Arthur never told his father about his sexuality, but he strongly suspected Uther had guessed. He'd never said anything directly, but over the years, and seemingly without any cause, Uther had given some very pointed lectures. Lectures about the Pendragon name and how it wasn't just the name that was important but the bloodline. Lectures about family history that always ended with how Arthur was effectively the only Pendragon left and it was thus his duty to have many heirs. Lectures about how adoption was a fine alternative to childlessness for the common folk, but peers had other concerns and could only adopt close relatives in such a case--the kind Arthur did not have. Lectures that made Uther's point very clear: Arthur would marry a woman and have children in the plural.

    Arthur had never worried about it much of course, he did like women after all. He liked the way they felt, the way they looked, how they sounded and smelled...he just felt more or less the same way about men. Ish. Men and women were different, but Arthur found he fancied both. He'd never had a boyfriend, he always felt that was somehow unfair, even in his school days when no one really expected it to last anyway. Dating a girl he was never going to marry didn't feel quite the same as dating a boy would. With the girl he supposed it was only extremely likely they wouldn't end up together forever, whereas a boy...well that as good as saying 'I'll only leave you later'. He didn't dwell on it though, there was no point: Arthur would marry a woman and have children in the plural.

    The problem was Merlin. Arthur did not want to date Merlin. He couldn't imagine what they would even talk about. But whenever he'd caught glimpses of Merlin around the union, walking back to Gaius', working in bio lab...there had been this feeling. Curiosity. What would being with another man be like? Sex with Sophia was fantastic, would it be just as good with someone like Merlin? Would it be better? He sort of imagined it would just be different...but how? Would he prefer to push Merlin down and spread his legs and fuck him? Or perhaps have Merlin's graceful fingers hold him down while he rode Arthur? He had a strange feeling that 'both' would be the answer, but that was pure fantasy. There were other fantasies too, other positions, other acts...he tried to keep them general but somehow it was always Merlin's fingers he imagined on him, always Merlin's clear eyes darting away mischievously.

    He wasn't any less attracted to Sophia, and he was not losing interest in her. He wasn't, no really, he wasn't. There wouldn't be any point in it anyway, because even if Arthur was ready to indulge his curiosity, Merlin never looked at him, spoke to him, or acknowledged him at all. It grated. Ever since they'd had that fight, Arthur couldn't stop thinking about Merlin. And Merlin, it seemed, never thought of him at all. They weren't friends, of course not, but they'd clung to each other in a bush for heaven's sake! That had to mean something. He had dreams about that sometimes, but they ended very differently than his memories.

    Sophia had picked up on his change in...intensity, his restlessness, and that strange, empty feeling he'd had since Merlin had decided they should avoid each other. She then suggested maybe Arthur needed to unwind a bit, and well, it actually made sense. She had been right, it did help, sort of. There was the alcohol, that helped blur the edges of his thoughts, helped push away his guilt, his doubt, his confusion—if only for a little while. But it was more than that.

There was this strange sense he got, like he was playing with fire. He knew he was pushing everything just a bit too far. He'd gotten that feeling sometimes when he was younger, when he'd decided to do something he wasn't supposed to, something he knew Uther would punish him for. Most of the time, it had just made him feel sick as a kid if he tried to defy his father. He disappointed his father so often without trying, that he couldn't bring himself to do it on purpose. But as he'd grown older and watched Morgana do what she pleased, every once in awhile, something would seem worth it. More than worth it. Especially if there was something else going on, something else upsetting him. Then it was a tiny bit of intoxicating control he could snatch back...for a moment before the inevitable consequences crashed down around him.

    “Fuck.” Arthur said out loud.

    “Yeah.” Leon sighed.

    “I think my father may, in fact, control the universe.” Arthur sighed into his pillow.

    “...Come again?”

    “Before I came here, he gave me this speech about how he knew that university was a time when young people had fun, and learned who they were, so he knew that I'd make mistakes but they'd be lessons. He may have spent some time detailing all kinds of scenarios. This was not exactly one of them, but pretty damn close. I can hear him in my head explaining to me what I did wrong and what I should learn from it. If it weren't for...well some random things, I'd swear he'd hired everyone in Camelot and given them all scripts.”

    “That's why you made sure to go to the same school as Morgana, isn't it? She's the one person you know, never, ever, could be bought or threatened by your father.” Leon grinned.

    “Could you?” Arthur asked, not in the mood for humor of any sort.

    “Arthur.” Leon sighed.

    It wasn't a fair question.

    “Sorry.” Arthur muttered.

    “You're allowed to be an ass today.” Leon shrugged.

    Arthur didn't remember anything from that night clearly. He didn't remember anything at all really, just some disjointed feelings. He would have known Merlin was there, even if no one told him, but he wouldn't have known why or how it made any sense. He still wasn't sure it did made any sense. But Sophia was gone. She withdrew from the university and disappeared. Arthur couldn't find it in himself to feel anything about that, not really. He faked anger and betrayal, even wounded pride for the others. But it wasn't real. He wasn't sure he didn't deserve what happened. He'd broken the rules, he'd played with fire, wasn't he supposed to get burned?

    He couldn't even manage embarrassment that Merlin had gotten involved, seen Arthur at his most vulnerable. To be embarrassed, he'd have to think Merlin cared at all about what happened, that it affected how he saw Arthur. He was pretty sure it hadn't. That's what he was stuck feeling, and it made the least sense at all. Who the hell was Merlin anyway?

    “Gwen!” Arthur hailed. She was flirting with the campus security guy manning the desk in the Union. It was cute, really. Gwen was one of those people who got adorably flustered. But as he approached them, something thrummed in his memory at the sight of the other person's face. He knew him from...somewhere...

    “Arthur.” Gwen said, breathlessly. “I was just....” she gestured at the young man vaguely. He was older than they were, but not by much. And then Arthur realized where he knew him from.

    “You were there, last night. You helped me, I think.”

    “A little.” he shrugged dismissively.

    “Thank you.” Arthur offered his hand.

    “No problem.”

    “Arthur, this is Lancelot.” Gwen had regained her composure. Arthur and Lancelot nodded at each other and Arthur said,

    “Actually Gwen, I was wondering if I could talk to you?”

    “Of course.” Gwen complied. “Thanks for chatting, Lancelot.”

    “Any time.” Lancelot smiled.

    Arthur steered Gwen away to a quieter place.

    “I wanted to thank you too.” he said seriously. “You saved me a lot of embarrassment, to say the least.”

    Gwen shook her head. “Really I didn't do anything. I'm just sorry it happened at all.”

    “Me too.” He sighed.

    “Arthur....” Gwen shifted her weight slightly, “I mean, if you ever want to talk...”

    “Oh, no. Not about that.” He shook his head. “But thank you.”

    She didn't look pitying, which he was grateful for. But she did look a bit concerned, which was worse in a way. Her father had died, and she still had room to care that Arthur's love life had imploded. Gwen was all heart.

    “I was going to ask Morgana, but maybe you can help. I'd like to contact Merlin, thank him too and I'd rather not wait and do it after lab or something.” Since he won't actually speak to me, Arthur finished in his head.

    “Oh, yes, of course.” She pulled out her mobile and recited the number as Arthur entered Merlin's number into his phone.

    “Thanks Gwen, really, for everything. It helps a lot that there are some decent people I can trust.”

**To Merlin:**   
This is Arthur.  
I wanted to thank you for your help with the Sophia thing.  
So, thank you.

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_np_

Arthur stared at the letters. He knew what they meant, but he never used textspeak. He could just hear his father's disapproval: 'Really, Arthur, even modern means of communication demand proper grammar and polite execution.' Sure, maybe his father would never actually know, but if he got comfortable with it, what if he slipped up and used it elsewhere? It was always a battle between how his father wanted him to speak, and how other people his age expected him to talk. But it wasn’t the shorthand that bothered him about the two letter reply, it was the way that it finished the conversation before it even started.

**To Merlin:**  
Is red your favorite color?

He sent it on impulse. And then he waited. The first reply had been relatively quick, but now...maybe Merlin had turned off his phone, or gone off to do something, or was just ignoring the completely ridiculous question.

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_no, why?_

**To Merlin:**  
your hoody was red

_From Merlin:_   
_that was special_

**To Merlin:**  
so what is, then?

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_dark blue_  
 _yours?_

And Arthur started to breathe again. It was a dirty trick, reminding Merlin of the one kindness Arthur had ever done him, giving him that red hoody to replace the one Merlin had let Mordred keep. But it had worked, Merlin was willing to actually talk.

**To Merlin:**  
green, actually

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_srsly?_

**To Merlin:**  
why?

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_dunno, would've guessed red_

**To Merlin:**  
red is my second favorite, so, close  
why dark blue?

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_why green?_

**To Merlin:**  
trees are green

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_the sea is dark blue_

**To Merlin:**  
seriously though Merlin, thanks for saving my ass

**_From Merlin:_ **   
_next time wear pants_

**To Merlin:**  
deal

It was a stupid conversation, but Arthur actually laughed at the comment about pants. And it was...something...to have exchanged words with Merlin without anyone being angry or frustrated. He wasn't sure it was progress exactly, but something taut relaxed in his chest. This wasn't something Uther could object to, this conversation (well, maybe the ass part), it wasn't a thrill of disobedience or rebellion, and yet, somehow, it was just as freeing.

  



	17. Morgana's Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana studies with Gwen, Arthur, and Merlin for finals and has her meeting with Professor Muirden.

Chapter 16

~*~Morgana~*~

 

    Morgana's first year at university had gone very well. She'd had excellent marks, and generally enjoyed the freedom that came with being farther than normal from Uther. Her only complaint had been the housing situation. Morgana just wasn't comfortable in close quarters with another girl. She suspected she felt that way about all humans and that, should she ever decide to co-habitat with any, it would involve a big house with separate rooms and some rules, however informal they might be about it. That had been one thing she'd liked about living with Uther: solitude. However, getting a single as a second year student, even with her grades, wasn't possible in the normal housing lottery. Uther could have arranged it easily, but Morgana wasn't about to ask. So the only way for Morgana to get a room to herself, was to become a resident adviser.

    It was a simple enough idea. Morgana's RA had been an excellent example, so between that and the training provided by the university, Morgana felt she was doing a decent job at being an RA. She had managed to deal with incompatible roommates, irresponsible cooking, loud parties, broken hearts, pregnancy scares, and several lock outs. It was nice in a way, really, because Morgana had never been good at having actual close friends. While she did not enjoy having to deal with the squabbles and messes of her residents, the formality of the situation was comforting. They weren't her friends, they didn't expect her to tell them her secrets, or spend all her time with them. They were fine with the occasional shared meal or movie in the lounge, and the mandatory floor programs. They came to her with their problems and questions, but never expected her to do the same.

    And perhaps if it had been just classes and RA duties, Morgana might have managed. But it wasn't. First it was Gwen and her father, then it was the boy Merlin found, and then Arthur's curious descent into possible self-destruction and false girlfriend. And with all that, with being an RA and second year classes...Morgana found herself struggling for the first time since she was a child.

    Not that she would admit it—even to herself she insisted it would get better. Her grades hadn't suffered too much, and she was coping. It was reasonable to miss a few classes, what with everything that had been going on. And if it was harder to go to the next once she'd missed one, well she'd just have to push herself. Next semester would be different. One mediocre semester while she was adjusting to being an RA was hardly a problem. And all the strange crises that had arisen were flukes, not a pattern. If she could just have a bit more time to herself, a bit more sleep, then everything would be fine. She'd just have to work harder, that was all. It was just growing up, just transitioning from being a spoiled child to a real adult. It was life. No one ever said it would be easy.

    Gwen asked her to study for finals with Merlin and Arthur. Morgana pointed out she had different classes than the other three who mostly were in the general introductions, but Gwen had argued that that was perfect because otherwise the three first years might get off track talking, but Morgana could remind them to focus.

    They'd had to search high and low in the library for a free group study table, but once they'd found one, they spread out comfortably. Gwen and Morgana sat on one side, facing Merlin and Arthur. There was a strange undercurrent between Merlin and Arthur. Arthur kept glancing at Merlin, and whenever Merlin shifted in his chair or turned a page, Arthur moved too—not always copying him, but reacting in some way. Merlin didn't seem to notice, in fact, he didn't seem aware of anything, apart from what he was studying. However odd their behavior, it had nothing to do with database systems, so Morgana put it out of her mind and went back to her notes.

 

    “Ugh.” Gwen groaned after about forty-five minutes. “I call for a break.”

    “Thank goodness.” Arthur exhaled, closing a textbook he'd been hi-lighting.

    “Hmm.” Morgana hummed, looking up. “Aren't I here to make sure you keep at it?”

    “Yes, but a quick stretch break is a good thing.” Gwen insisted. “Merlin?”

    “True. Studies have been done.” He murmured absently, still engrossed in his bio lab manual.

    “Merlin.” Gwen sighed, reaching over and closing the manual.

    “Oiiiii.” Merlin whined.

    “Up, up.” She poked at him. “Take me for a walk to the vending machine. Morgana and Arthur can watch our stuff, and we'll come back and let them go.”

    Merlin sighed, but got up and dutifully followed Gwen off around the stacks.

    “What are you studying?” Morgana asked Arthur.

    He turned his book to face her, then leaned back stretching. It was his math textbook, of all things.

    “Funny.” She smirked, pushing it back at him. “I would have guessed it was Merlin.”

    Arthur snapped back toward the table, drawing his arms in. “What?”

    “Aha.” She grinned wider. “What's that about?”

    “Nothing.” He denied quickly. “I'm not, it's just, well you know, he's always twitching, and it's annoying, and it makes it hard to study. Besides, anything could distract me from math.”

    “I see.”

    “What is that look for?”

    “Nothing.” She pulled her pack of hi-lighters out of her bag. “It just looked like something was going with you two, that's all. I wanted to make sure you weren't being a prat about the part where he rescued you. You did remember to thank him, I assume?”

    “Yes, Morgana I did. He's the problem not me.”

    “Oh?”

    “Nevermind, we just don't get along.”

    “And that has nothing to do with you?”

    “No. I've been nice. He just won't talk to me. He ignores me unless I text him, and even then half the time just...one word replies.”

    Well that was unexpected. Merlin had sent her few text messages, but they had usually been rather lengthy and informative. But they'd also had many long conversations, granted, about shared interests, but...this was interesting. Why would Arthur care, unless....

    “If you want to get him talking, ask him about waterways.”

    “Waterways?” Arthur frowned.

    “Yeah, ask him some fact about a river or something, let him ramble a bit, and he'll usually be more open after that.”

    “That's insane. Also, how do you know that?”

    “It's easy to spot if you spend any time with him. Merlin likes water.”

    Arthur made an annoyed noise and scowled at the table. Morgana still wasn't sure why Arthur was fixated on Merlin, because the simplest and most obvious answer was so unlikely, but Morgana really did think Arthur needed more friends who weren't the children of Uther's allies. She had no idea how she felt about the idea that it might be something else.

  


    Morgana had been furious. Uther had called her to remind her that she had her end of term meeting with Professor Muirden that evening. She'd already had one with Gaius, he knew about Muirden's visit and Uther's decision, but agreed to see her anyway. There wasn't anything for him to teach her at this point, it was more that she'd always seen Gaius around this time of year to discuss her school work. It was familiar.

    She was sorely tempted not to go to the appointment, and she'd told Uther that she wouldn't. He'd spent the rest of the conversation talking about how rude that would be, and promising to cut her allowance or take her phone over vacation, and all the usual Uther threats. She was tired of them. She wasn't a child anymore, she could decide for herself when to be rude. Besides, he'd made the appointment, not her.

    But in the end, she just didn't feel like enduring the consequences. If she didn't go, Uther would be more unbearable than usual during the break, and she didn't look forward to the winter holiday as it was. So instead, she resignedly made her way to Professor Muirden's office.

    “Good evening, Morgana.”

    “Good evening, professor.” She replied, sitting in the chair he indicated opposite his desk. He didn't sit though, instead he turned toward the window.

    “I understand why you were upset when I spoke to the Duke about your papers.” He fiddled absently with the tie of the drape. “I hope you can understand why I did it?”

    He turned back to face her and moved casually around the desk, considering her.

    “Yes, of course.” She replied acidly, but something was prickling at her senses.

    “I'm glad. I was hoping we might be able to put that past us, since I am sure you want to be successful, and having some extra input can only add to your education.” He paused, leaning on the corner of the desk. “I think you have great potential, I would love to be one of those here who fosters it.”

    They moved at the same time. Morgana grabbed the first thing at hand, his metal name plate mounted on a block of polished wood. Professor Muirden stabbed the needle of a syringe into her arm as she brought the heavy name plate crashing into the side of his head. She scrambled from the chair and toward the door as the professor reeled back from her blow, stunned.

    She got through the door, and once out into the corridor, she screamed and she kept screaming as she raced toward elevators. She had no idea what he had done, or how long she might have before it took effect, but she meant to put as much distance between her and his office as she could, making as much noise as possible.

    She made it to the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, she frantically pushed the 'door close' button until she was safely sealed inside. Her head was swimming, and she was hyperventilating, but she couldn't seem to remember what to do about it. Finally the doors open and she screamed again, stumbling toward the outside door.

    As the cold winter air greeted her, she fell to the ground, noting with satisfaction that there was a group of shocked students gawking at her. And then she closed her eyes.

  


    They caught the professor three townships over. What exactly he planned to do with Morgana, no one knew. Morgana was just glad Uther would never interfere with her education again. That, and that she apparently had excellent reflexes. She never could understand how she’d known that he was about to attack her, there was nothing in his voice or behavior she could identify, but somehow, as soon as she’d entered the room, she’d known she was in danger.


	18. Merlin's Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin distracts himself with explaining the plot and tries to ignore Arthur, but Gwen and Morgana intervene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if you are getting frustrated with Arthur and Merlin, I promise it's not much longer til they make some progress)

Chapter 17  
~*~Merlin~*~

 

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz._

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz._

    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  


    Merlin glared at his phone. He'd been doing that a lot lately. He'd considered dropping it in a pond more than once. It probably wasn't even Arthur. Other people did text him sometimes, like Morgana for example. She didn't text him often, but sometimes. And Gwen texted him all the time.

    Merlin flipped another page in the book, and then typed a detail into the search engine. He made a note in his notebook. That was it. Now it was all there, all connected. Merlin had all the answers no one else was looking for.

    He glanced at his phone. It sat there, still, silent, and traitorous. Merlin hissed at it, and then closed his laptop, and piled two books and his notebook on top of it. The precarious stack wobbled as he made his way down the stairs. All the conversations had been short exchanges, complaining about finals, or that time Arthur sent him a picture of the toilet seat someone had duct taped over one of the doors to union and they'd laughed about it. It was so hard with text messages because he couldn't see Arthur, and that made him somehow less real and more like a voice in the void, rather than the person who'd slammed Merlin's head into a wall.

    “Gaius!” he called, finally making it down the stairs. “I've figured it out.”

    “What's this?” Gaius asked, poking his head out of the parlor as Merlin set everything on the table.

    “Come and see.” Merlin said, setting everything up.

    Gaius gamely sat down at the table next to Merlin and his collection of information.

    “It all comes back to the Defense of Public Safety Act of '76.”

    Gaius shook his head sadly. “Doesn't everything?”

    “Well, no, not really.” Merlin pointed out. “But this stuff does. He poked at his notebook, Sophia's family tree carefully copied down.

    “The Tylwythteg Family.”

    “I remember them.” Gaius sucked in his breath. “That was...messy.”

    “I don't know what to think about them. On the one hand, what happened was bad, but on the other...it does seem like they had an awful lot of power and influence. Like, too much.”

    “Many people felt that way. But they were an old, proud family, and they were always well organized. They always made sure to use marriage and appointments to their best advantage. Everything was legal.”

    “Until the Public Safety Act.” Merlin pointed to one of the open books. “And the removal of 'all unfit persons from government and public office'. Did you know there was a third cousin running a post office in a fishing village who they rounded up because she'd had seizures as a child?”

    “No, I did not.” Gaius blinked.

    “It was a numbers game. They managed to document 25% of the living family as having some type of mental defect. The prominent members got all the media attention of course, all the scandal, but they needed to really paint the whole family as potentially dangerous.”

    “You think the Tylwythteg were specifically targeted?”

    “They were systematically taken out, Gaius. It's all right here.” He pointed at the second book and flipped a few pages in his notebook. “Exactly 25%. That's not a coincidence. And the result was the entire collapse of their power structure. Most of their lands and funds were either seized, or used to try to fight for the people who were carted off to the Asylums. Like you said, appointments and marriages, only now they lost too many key people and resources, and no one would stand by them.”

    “But why the sudden interest in the Tylwythteg?”

    Merlin pointed at the computer screen. Sophia's public student information page was displayed with her picture.

    “Sophia's mother was a low level clerk who got taken to make up the 25%. She had a twin sister who drowned when they were kids, and she had recurring nightmares about it her whole life. Sophia's father was actually the youngest son of the main branch, Sophia's parents were technically third cousins twice removed. Anyway, with the name tarnished, and now synonymous with Mentally Defective, the money and power gone, a lot of the mentally sound Tylwythteg changed their names or left the country. Sophia's father apparently decided the only thing that could protect her, and maybe start things up again, was for Sophia to marry Arthur.”

    “That's quite a story, Merlin, but I doubt you can prove it.”

    Merlin stared at Gaius's hands. “I have proved it, but that's not the point.”

    “Oh?”

    “The point is I figured out who Sophia was and what she wanted.”

    “I suppose you have at that.” Gaius shook his head. “Don't you have finals to study for?”

    “I'm not done.” Merlin said. “There's more.”

    Gaius just sighed, so Merlin launched into the next part of his discovery.

    “The Public Safety Act was used to take down the Tylwythteg, but also a lot of other people, some of them in important positions, and lots of just ordinary people. Professor Muirden's parents fall into the latter group. He was actually in foster care from the time he was five years old. That's how he got the scars on his face.” Merlin switched tabs on his laptop to show a police report. “One of the foster families didn't pay much attention to the kids, and one of the other foster children shoved his face into the fire. But anyway, he took his mother's maiden name when he got to be twenty-one.”

    “And you know why he attacked Morgana?”

    “Revenge. He blames the Duke of Somerset for the fact that his parents were imprisoned, and he was put into the system which maimed him. So, he lashed out at the most important thing to Pendragon he could get his hands on: Morgana. I don't know what his actual plan was, but...”

    Merlin shrugged. “So it call comes back to the Public Safety Act of '76.”

    “And you intend to do something with this research and your conclusions?”

    “Um?” Merlin asked, confused. “What would I do with it? I just wanted to show you because now it makes sense.”

    Gaius sighed. “Thank goodness for that, Merlin.”

  


    Merlin paced back and forth in his room, which, given how small it was, was sort of ridiculous, but he couldn't decide what to do. All his research, and studying, had been keeping his mind busy. But now, with finals almost over and his research complete, he was alone with the stupidest problem in the universe.

    Arthur Pendragon would not leave him alone, and that fact was causing him to consider transferring to some other school because it was _Arthur Bloody Pendragon_. The only thing weirder than the fact that Arthur wanted to talk to him, was that he hadn't already figured Merlin out. Merlin knew he should have been more careful, he fidgeted too much, he was never still, he was too literal, he didn't move the way other people did, he couldn't have their easy conversations he...he was just too obvious. No one had caught on yet, but sooner or later Arthur would, he had to. And there was no question of what he would do. He'd turn Merlin in and that would be that. It was life or death, and that meant staying as far from Arthur as possible.

    But.

    But, but, but.

    Merlin threw himself down on his bed. Arthur was drugged and didn't even remember the night Merlin had scared Sophia off. He had no idea what happened. Which basically mean it didn't happen, because it shouldn't have, and nothing about that night was ok. Nothing Arthur had said counted, nothing he did counted. If it basically didn't happen Merlin couldn't have any feelings about it. And why would Merlin have any feelings about Arthur anyway? He didn't. It wasn't allowed. And his friend in the void wasn't a friend at all.

    Merlin got up and went to his laptop, he opened three windows of his media player and queued up a movie, a season of doctor who, and an audiobook and set them to all play at once. It was the only way to turn his brain off, to give it three stories to try to follow at once. It was a curious thing, considering how overstimulated he could get out in the world, in a dining hall, or if two conversations were going in one room at a time. But in his room, where he controlled the environment and could stop the noise any time he wanted, sometimes it was the only option he had to try to find sleep.

   

And thinking about Arthur and his most recent, most terrible, text message, was not an option.

**From Arthur:  
what's your favorite river?**

The unfairness made Merlin want to scream. Instead he ran away and hid in three different stories where no one could find him, including himself.

    “So...” Gwen drew out the word. “Arthur?”

    “So Arthur what?” Merlin asked calmly. He wasn't totally unprepared for this, because Arthur had been obvious in their study sessions. Merlin had no idea what he actually wanted, but he knew Arthur kept looking at him, he knew because he'd been looking at Arthur. Merlin was just better at appearing to study while doing it. He wasn't sure about the girls, but he knew the study sessions had not been productive for him or Arthur. Maybe that's what the next step was, take Arthur aside and teach him to be less obvious, then Arthur could stare at Merlin all he wanted, and no one would know. Except, of course, if Arthur was paying attention to Merlin, then Merlin was under threat. Maybe that's what the whole thing was about, Arthur trying to get close enough to confirm his suspicions that Merlin should be sent off to Care.

    “You two are being weird.” Gwen stated simply.

    “Gwen, I interrupted him about to have sex with Sophia, saved him from a scandal, helped him put his trousers on, and dragged him back to his dorm. We're bound to be weird after that.”

    Merlin had never bothered to explain the whole ‘force Arthur into marriage’ part of Sophia’s plan. It was too ridiculous, and far too intimate. Merlin stuck with the blackmail/tabloid story instead. It made better sense anyway.

Gwen was a bit taken aback at that, “I suppose...but it seems....different.”

    Merlin shrugged.

    “He wants to be your friend.” She said finally.

    “We don't get along.” Merlin replied. “It's just a bad match of personalities.”

    “He's making an effort, Merlin, maybe meet him halfway?”

    “I...” and here Merlin didn't have a prepared response. It would look strange from Gwen's perspective he supposed, she had no idea why Merlin needed to run the other way. “I guess...I could try...”

    “Oh good.” Gwen beamed. “Because Morgana and I have a plan.”

    “Oh no.” Merlin whimpered. “That is the scariest thing you've ever said.”

    “Just you wait.” Gwen said cheerfully, “It's about to get worse. The plan is for you and me to visit Morgana and Arthur over break.”

    “What? No, Gwen, no.” Merlin shook his head. Danger, red alert, back up, that could not happen.

    “Merlin, just hear me out.” Gwen pleaded. “Morgana says the holidays are always awful for her and Arthur, the Duke is hardly ever there so it's just them shut up and alone. He let's them each invite a friend so it's not so lonely, but she says they usually don't because everyone else spends time with their families.”

    But Gwen didn't have a family anymore. Merlin's stomach dropped and his chest tightened. How could he have forgotten Gwen would have no where to go, and no family to spend the holidays with since her brother was still missing? Gwen took a deep breath, but otherwise showed no sign that it was a really depressing conversation.

    “Since that obviously isn't an option in my case,” She continued, voice flat. “I'm going to stay with Morgana. I know you'll want to go home and see your mother, but you wouldn't have to stay the whole time, just...come and make it a little less lonely for a bit. We're sort of a group now, you, me, Morgana, and Arthur. Morgana and I want you there, and Arthur's going to invite you. It'll be fun, there'll be no school or anything hanging over us, we can just relax. And maybe you and I can show Morgana and Arthur what the Solstice is really about? I don't think they really have any...good memories. We can share traditions, and make up our own. Just think about it, please?”

    That was probably the worst thing that could possibly happen. How could he say no to Gwen?

    “Right. Yes, I'll think about it. But Gwen...” he stalled, because about the only decent excuse was the truth, and that was out.

    “I know it's not what you had planned.” She added hastily. “And I'm scared, honestly, I mean, this is the Duke of Somerset's house we're talking about. I mean, it's a castle. And even if he's not around, it's bound to be....different.”

    “Understatement.” Merlin croaked.

    Gwen sighed. “But...”

    But what else was Gwen going to do? Stay at the university? They would let her, he supposed, extenuating circumstances and all, but that would be as bad as going home with Morgana, maybe worse, to face her first Solstice without her father alone. And of course Gwen would want him to come along so she wouldn't be the only poor kid in the castle, the only outsider. Again, Merlin felt like the worst person for not just agreeing. Anything he could do, anything at all, he should. But actually visiting Somerset's home? Wasn't that basically suicide?

    “I'll think about it Gwen, I promise.” He acquiesced.

  


    And that night, Arthur actually called him. Merlin let it ring twice trying to convince himself to ignore it, but he knew that, while the word 'stupid' wasn't good enough to describe what he was about to do, he couldn't make Gwen face it alone.

    “Hello?”

    “Merlin.”

    And then there was a weird pause because the last time Arthur's voice had been in Merlin's ear, saying his name, things had been very different and Merlin's mind sort of stuttered.

    “Um, yeah?” he finally managed. “I hate talking on phones.”

    “Sorry, I just...Gwen's coming to stay with me and Morgana for the Solstice. My father always let's me and Morgana invite a friend if we want, and, since this is Gwen's first Solstice since...and, well, everything...I was thinking I would invite you. You wouldn't have to stay the whole break, I mean, you probably want to go home for the actual holiday, but you could visit for a few days before or after maybe? I think it would be good for Gwen.”

    “Yeah, she, um, mentioned. And...well I mean. I can't really say no, can I? It's Gwen. And, I totally forgot all about how she must be feeling. So, yeah, I'll...I mean I'll talk to my mum about it. It'll be best if I come in the beginning I think, help Gwen settle in?”

    “That would be great.” Arthur agreed. Merlin wondered if the awkwardness was better or worse than their previous hostility.

    “So, um, bye?” Merlin finally said after a pregnant pause, which was both awkward and weirdly desperate.

    “Good night, Merlin.” Arthur replied before he hung up.

    Merlin was going to die. He was going to walk into the lion's den, ruin everyone's holiday, and end up tortured for the rest of his short life.

    Unless he didn't. It was unlikely, but what if he went, spent time with Arthur in the Duke of Somerset's own home, and made it out undetected? If he could do that, not that he thought he could, but if he did manage it...he would know he could fool anyone. It wouldn't mean he would be able to let his guard down, he'd always have to be cautious but...wouldn't it be something to reduce the constant dread? Wouldn't it be almost worth it if he could know that, as long as he was careful, he would make it? Because right now, no matter how careful he was, he lived in a constant state of panic, never knowing if he had been successful, never knowing if someone had noticed his quirks and put them all together. But if he could fool Arthur, the Duke of Somerset's own son...

    It was the only thing he had to cling to at this point, the only way to justify what he was going to do.

 


	19. Gwen's Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four enjoy the holiday break at Pendragon Castle--until Uther arrives.
> 
> (also, mistletoe!)

Chapter 18

~*~Gwen~*~

 

    Gwen's family had never been poor, not really. And they had had the kind of family, when she was small, that fully appreciated what they had, and were content with it. Her father made an honest living and was proud of his work, he provided for his children. She never really knew what happened, how it all came apart between her brother and her father. She had heard the yelling, occasionally, but one thing they seemed to agree on was that Gwen should be kept out of it. Thus all she ever heard were a few insults, a few words said in anger that she had no context for.

    So, rather than any kind of envy, Gwen's reaction was pity when she was shown into Pendragon Castle. Well, pity and a keen appreciation for the ironwork on the gate. It was a cold, dreary place. It was exquisitely decorated, of course, but utterly sterile. The walls covered in portraits, coats of arms, tapestries, and even some of the stone work was engraved. There were antique tables of rich, exotic woods, draped with delicate cloths and intricate lacework. There were ornaments, and statues, and suits of armor. It was like an especially boring museum.

    She and Merlin had been introduced to the housekeeper, Ms. Martin, and the Butler, Mr. Black. The guest rooms were just like the rest of the castle: perfect and terrifying. Gwen had a large, four poster bed, with green and lavender floral hangings. Morgana had said she thought that room fit best with Gwen's personality, but Gwen couldn't see any real difference between it and Merlin's room. His large four poster bed was made of a darker wood, and his hangings were navy and gold. The baubles in each room were unique, but similar in size, shape, and placement. The wood of the wardrobes and other furniture all matched the bed. Gwen was afraid to touch anything, honestly.

  
  
  


    “I think we need a real tree.” Morgana announced during breakfast on the first day. “Have either of you ever had a tree?”

    “Yes.” Gwen at the same time Merlin said, “No.”

    “We have an artificial one.” Merlin shrugged.

    “We're not getting a tree.” Arthur gave a heavy sigh. “Father only gets a tree when we host a ball.”

    “A ball?” Gwen nearly spit out her orange juice.

    “Uther gets the tree to show off. This year we have company, I think he'd approve.” Morgana countered and then looked at Gwen, “Yes, terrible things, balls. Not everything they are made out to be in fairy tales, I promise.”

    “That, at least, we can agree on.” Arthur muttered, poking at his sausage.

    “We always had a real tree.” Gwen said. “But a small one.”

    “Uther always get's a massive one to put in the foyer.” Morgana said.

    “Well, since you only have two guests instead of a whole ball, maybe just a small one, like really, really small?” Merlin suggested. “How many people are even at a ball?”

    “Too many.” Arthur and Morgana answered together.

    “Tell me you have pictures.” Gwen grinned at them. “I want to see tiny Morgana and Arthur at a ball. Oh my goodness! Did you have to dance together as kids?”

    “We don't talk about that.” Arthur huffed. “And only a very small tree Morgana.”

    “Fine. We should decorate it ourselves anyway, so it will have to be small. I don't know the first thing about that.”

    “Speaking of His Grace,” Merlin put in, “Um, you said he's not really around much but...”

    “Oh he usually spends as much time as possible in the capital, parties and last minute business.” Morgana waved a hand. “Only turns up for the week of the Solstice. If you're lucky, you might miss him all together. No such luck for you Gwen, but, well, it's only a week.”

    Gwen exchanged a look with Merlin. Arthur was frowning. They knew, of course, that Morgana was not overly fond of her guardian, but he was Arthur's father. It made it all a bit uncomfortable. Not in the least because he was a Duke and head of the Department of Public Safety.

    “I'm sure everything will be fine.” Gwen offered to the strained silence. “Do you pick out your own trees?”

    Morgana blinked at her. “No.”

    “Oh well, it can be quite fun. I don't know if there are any tree farms in the area though.”

    “I'm sure there must be.” Merlin shrugged. “Do you think we can be trusted to pick out a tree, though?”

    “I suspect so.” Arthur grumbled. He did not seem to find the tree idea as enchanting as Morgana, but was determined to appear long suffering instead.

  
  
  


    Arthur and Merlin were even weirder than normal on the trip out to find a tree. They kept making sure to stand at least three feet apart, preferably with Gwen or Morgana between them. Gwen had an idea about how to fix it, later. The idea involved mistletoe. Ok, maybe it wouldn't actually help Arthur and Merlin, but it would help Morgana. She'd find it funny, and while Morgana brushed off references to the attack by Professor Muirden, Gwen couldn't imagine it left her unaffected.

    There wasn't as much snow on the ground as Gwen prefered when tree hunting, there was only a light dusting. But they got bundled up and went tromping about, and it was fun despite the awkwardness that sometimes arose when Merlin and Arthur failed to carry the conversation.

    “I like this one.” Merlin pointed out a tree in there size range (about three feet).

    “It's crooked.” Arthur cocked his head to the side.

    “It has character,” Gwen amended.

    “Shouldn't it be...fluffier? More full?” Morgana asked, frowning at it. “I like it otherwise.”

    “No, that's always tempting. But you don't want it to be perfect in the field. It needs to have space for ornaments and lights and everything.” Gwen replied, circling around it. “And the trunk is mostly straight, it's only the top that's a bit...”

    “Crooked.” Arthur repeated.

    “I hate how manufactured our tree looks.” Merlin said. “Real trees aren't like that. They're like this one, or that one with the bald patch on the side.”

    Arthur sighed and circled around the tree himself. “Father won't be impressed with the top.”

    “We're not doing this for Uther.” Morgana snapped. “We're doing it for us, the people actually in the house, who will actually get enjoyment out of the tree.”

    Arthur scowled but didn't say anything.

    “Maybe the one with the bald patch is better?” Merlin asked. “It could go in the back, and no one would see it, but we'd all know it was there? Or, I mean, there's loads more trees to look at anyway.”

    “Right you are, Merlin.” Gwen said smiling, “There's lots more fish in the sea.” And she looped her arm through his and pulled him away. Merlin stiffened a bit, like any time anyone tried to touch him, but he let her drag him along. Morgana and Arthur followed behind, both sulking.

    In the end, they got Merlin's tree. Arthur relented after surveying several more rows of trees, some of which were absolutely perfect. Perhaps it was Morgana's mood, or her words, Gwen had no idea. Maybe he just wanted to make Merlin happy, but needed time to gather the courage to pick a tree his father wouldn't like. It was hard to say with Arthur.

  
  


    Personally, Gwen found Mr. Black thoroughly creepy. On the other hand, Gwen wasn't used to staff. There were more, more than just Ms. Martin and Mr. Black, but Gwen never saw them. She supposed that was by design, and for the best, but on the other hand it was sort of strange. Someone had been making her bed and taking away her dirty clothes and bringing them back clean. She was to tell Ms. Martin if she had any complaints or requests. Gwen sort of wondered if she might graduate early so she could get her own place somewhere. She wanted a home again. She tried to tell herself it would be possible, that people grew up and made new homes as a normal course of events, but even if it was just a place, she supposed it would be something.

    Morgana suggested they set the tree up in the old play room that she and Arthur had used as children. It's crooked top was least likely to offend Uther there. Arthur took the concession with grace, and then Merlin and Gwen taught them to string popcorn and cranberries. They drank cocoa, and tried to recreate the kinds of ornaments they'd made in class as children, followed by some they'd gotten off the internet. It was hilarious, and at one point Merlin just started gluing the little plastic eyes to everything, and then Morgana got hold of some tinsel. The tinsel war was an excellent cover for Gwen to hang the mistletoe while Arthur and Merlin were distracted. She stood on her chair, pretending to be avoiding being decorated in place of the tree, and slipped the ribbon on the mistletoe onto the chandelier. She got down and stepped well out of the way.

    Morgana had a streak of blue paint on her face, tisle in her hair, and three plastic eyes stuck to her blouse. Arthur had tinsel stuffed into all his trouser pockets (all of them!), plastic eyes on his face and red paint on his hands. Merlin was paint-free, but seemed to be raining tinsel as someone had shoved it down the neck of his jumper. Each of his fingernails had a plastic eye on it.

    “Freeze!” Gwen cried when the boys were in position, with Arthur trying to sprinkle the tinsel from one of this pockets over Merlin's head. They all turned to look at her. She shook her head, beaming, “Look up!”

    The reactions were priceless, and Gwen nearly fell down laughing. Arthur was the first to understand and made to jump away, but Morgana realized and shoved him back toward Merlin, squealing with delight. Merlin merely looked horrified.

    “Pucker up, boys.” Morgana crowed.

    “No. No, this is ridiculous.” Merlin protested. “It's just a plant. It doesn't mean anything.”

    “It's mistletoe.” Gwen corrected. “It means kissing.”

    “Best get it over with, they'll never let us get away with ducking out.” Arthur shrugged and, without any more ado, learned in and kissed Merlin on the lips.

    Morgana and Gwen dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Merlin sprang away sputtering. The interesting part was that Arthur just smirked.

  
    The frivolity did not last. After just a week and two days of the holiday, a storm blew in and brought the Duke of Somerset with it. They had some warning, on both fronts; the Duke sent word ahead and the Bureau of Meteorology issued a warning for the storm. But Gwen felt unprepared for both of them.

    It had been nice at Pendragon Castle leading up to the storm. Admittedly, the place was still weird, but they kept busy sharing traditions (mostly hers and Merlin's) and exploring the parts of Arthur's and Morgana's childhoods that the two were comfortable with. For example, the Duke had actually gotten Morgana a pony for her twelfth birthday. The pony didn't live at the castle, apparently there was a summer house with a stable, but Morgana had pictures and some silly stories. Arthur never had a pony, but the summer house was also where his dog Excalibur lived. The Duke seemed to object to animals as a rule, lumping them in with mud and running and playing—things that children couldn't be kept from entirely but that could be carefully controlled.

    It was confusing for Gwen because on the one hand, they had so many things Gwen never did--and not just material things. They'd had tutors, and music coaches, and had been to more museums than Gwen could name. And yet, despite all that, Gwen thought it sounded awful. The empty, silent halls, full of only the sorts of things children could neither appreciate nor touch. The play room with it's chess set, and instrument cases, but no toys, the dog and the pony only visited in the summer—no wonder Morgana was so attached to the bear her father had given her! What it must have been like for an eight year old to come to this place? And Arthur, who never knew anything else? Gwen couldn't imagine.

    There was no love in Pendragon castle, and the only joy had come with her and Merlin but fled out the door into the snow when the Duke arrived.

  
  
  


    Dinner with the Duke. Gwen fussed and dithered about what to wear and how to do her hair. She didn't want to look shabby, but she didn't want to be presumptuous either, she was after all, the daughter of a blacksmith—an orphan, and a university student. She wasn't trying to pretend to be something grander, just the best version of what she was. Morgana helped, sort of of, mostly she told Gwen not to worry about it.

    “He isn't going to like you. He doesn't like anyone,” the older girl had shrugged.

    Merlin could hardly be doing better; when he heard the Duke would be arriving early he'd managed to turn the color of skim milk. But at least Arthur was likely to be more helpful than Morgana was at making one feel one was putting one's best foot forward. Arthur was the sort of son who wanted to impress his father, live up to his expectations. He'd want his guests to be as well received as possible. Morgana was the ever detached, and occasionally downright scornful, ward. She didn't care what the Duke thought.

    It wasn't formal—not by the standards of Arthur and Morgana, there were no gowns or white bow ties, but for Gwen and Merlin, it was possibly the most formal thing they had ever done. Gwen had a minor moment of near hysterics when she thought about table manners and she and Morgana went to meet the boys in the playroom so they could all go down together. She'd never been so happy to see Merlin in her life. He was her partner in all this, and he looked as queasy as she felt.

    Merlin had on a dark navy blazer over a light gray button up shirt with a tie that matched his blazer, and charcoal dress trousers. The navy brought out the blueish tinge to his skin that Uther's presence seemed to induce, which was somewhat unfortunate, but otherwise he looked smart enough. Arthur had on a deep crimson cashmere v-neck jumper over a white button up tucked into his gray flannel trousers. He looked, as usual, like a model. Gwen had chosen, in the end, to go for some festive spirit and wore her knee length dress with the gold top and black ruffle skirt. The neckline was a simple wide scoop that flattered her collarbone, but was conservative. She'd put up her hair in a twist with gold pins, and left a few strands of curls frame her face. The boys shoes were utterly boring, but fitting. She and Morgana wore dainty, strappy heels—hers were gold and Morgana's were black. Morgana's dress was a rich green cap sleeved frock, with silver and gold embroidered leaves under the bodice.

    They looked like they were going to a Solstice party to have a good time. They felt like they were about to be on trial.

    Dinner was a trial. Arthur shrunk in on himself the longer it went on, and Morgana got more bristly. The Duke's idea of light conversation over a meal was to interrogate Merlin about where he was from and his family history, which is how they all found out why Merlin never mentioned his father: he'd left before Melin was born, and Merlin didn't know his name because his mother refused to talk about him. Gwen felt so sorry for him she forgot to be worried about why the Duke hadn't spoken to her at all. It turned out he was saving her for dessert.

    “So, Miss Smith, I believe I already know a bit about you.” Uther Pendragon said over his rich bread and butter pudding.

    Gwen barely stopped her head from snapping up, as it was her fork wobbled a bit in her pudding. Despite her suddenly dry mouth, she managed a small, “Is that so, Your Grace?”

    “Yes, normally I would not personally be aware of a case such as yours, being the family member of a sympathizer, but it was the first successful assault on a Care Facility this decade resulting in the escape of several of the most dangerous Defectives we have ever housed.” He paused to look around at all four of the university students. “Additionally, it is bound to reach my ears when my own household is involved.”

    They were all silent. Gwen knew, of course, that the facilities were usually very secure, but she had no idea the extent of her father's crime. The riots suddenly made more sense—her father had set free some of the worst sorts of people, and they were now working to destabilize everything. Why had he done it? He had been a good, law abiding man. Honest, hard-working, kind. Someone must have forced him, or perhaps it had something to do with Elyan, perhaps he had gotten mixed up in something and her father had tried to help. Something, something had to make it all make sense. Gwen tried to swallow but her throat caught and she coughed slightly.

    “What I found most interesting was that there is no documented history of Mental Defects in your family.” the Duke continued. “Usually sympathizers are the misguided family members of those afflicted. Perhaps it was a close family friend? We have made progress on non-familial connections, but, sometimes those still slip through the cracks.”

    “I don't know.” Gwen said quietly. “None of it makes any sense. We didn't know anyone, he never said anything about...anything. I still don't even know what happened.”

    Because as frightened as she was, the Duke had already told her more than official channels ever had. Perhaps he would explain, perhaps he had some answers.

    “What happened is exceedingly simple Miss Smith, you father was, and your brother is, a traitor to the common good. Your father conspired to release ten of the most heavily guarded and deranged Defectives in the country. When government forces attempted to stop and apprehend him and his co-conspirators, he was killed. Your brother is still at large. I'd ask if you have any idea where your brother is, but we have been monitoring your situation very carefully and already know that you do not.”

    Gwen felt all the blood leave her face. She felt a bit like she was falling. Dimly she was aware of Morgana jumping to her feet and slamming her hands on the table,

    “How dare you. Gwen is my guest!”

    “You efforts to provoke me with your choice of guests have not gone unappreciated, I assure you.” The Duke replied coldly. “Truly, Morgana, I grow tired of your rebellions.”

    “Rebellions?” Morgana spat. “If I ever decide to truly go against you, I promise it will not involve my choice of friends! I'm not rebelling, I'm trying to be a decent human being!”

    Merlin stood up then, placing his napkin gently on the table. “I think, perhaps, His Grace and Morgana could use some privacy.”

    His voice was clear, though quiet, and uncharacteristically confident for such a tense atmosphere. He put a hand on Gwen's arm, and she numbly got up. Arthur, across the table and next to Morgana, also stood.

    “Yes, I think so.” Arthur agreed and he helped Merlin escort Gwen out into the hall. They paused as the doors closed behind them. Gwen leaned against the cool wall. Elyan was alive. She tried to focus on that. Elyan was alive and they hadn't caught him. Arthur and Merlin stood on either side of her, waiting awkwardly.

    “You don't get to say a damn thing about my safety after Muirden!” came Morgana's indignant shriek. They couldn't hear the Duke's reply, but then she cried,

    “Maybe I’ll sue for early independence!”

    It was clearly a major row.

    “I'm sorry.” Arthur offered softly to Gwen.

    She forced her eyes open and shook her head. “Elyan is alive. I couldn't be sure before. Now I know. For me, it was worth it. But Morgana...”

    Arthur sighed. “They've always been like that. It's just worst since the Autumn break because he tried to make Muirden her tutor. I'm...I'm going to stop it.”

    Arthur sounded a bit shaky, like he'd only just decided to do something. “Merlin, you and Gwen go up and wait in the playroom.”

    Merlin nodded, and they left Arthur squaring his shoulders, hands poised above the door handles. Merlin didn't say anything, which was not surprising, but infinitely welcome. Gwen didn't want to talk just yet. She wanted to go over what she'd learned.

    The only truly new things were that Elyan was alive, and was considered a sympathizer also. Sympathizers were, as the Duke had said, usually family or close friends of people who were Mentally Defective in some way. Most often they were the people whose loved ones were in Care. There was a small population of people classed Defective but not dangerous or incompetent enough to be in Care. They could only hold certain jobs and live in certain places, but they were allowed to see their families. That situation was too easily changed for their families to take any active part in challenging the policies of Public Safety.

    It was not illegal to be a sympathizer. To hold or voice views dissenting from government policy was protected by law. Except, of course, if you were found to be mentally defective yourself; or were found to be actively interfering in the identification, detainment, or treatment of the defective. In addition, since mental defects were known to run in families, families of any one known to be such, were more closely monitored. So it was perfectly legal to hate Public Safety and all it stood for, it just also usually resulted in sympathizers being found guilty of something else.

    Once in the playroom, Gwen sank into a chair. Merlin paced.

    “This whole thing is awful. I am glad about your brother, but that doesn't make any of this ok.” Merlin blurted out. “They should have told you before what happened, and why. They should have let you...it never should have happened at all.”

    “No.” Gwen agreed. “But Elyan is alive, and they don't have him.”

    Merlin made a frustrated noise, but all Gwen had to cling to was Elyan. Silence resumed for a period, until Morgana came in, still red-faced but looking slightly stunned.

    “Arthur stood up to Uther.” She informed them, her tone mainly neutral but with a tinge of awe.

    “Uh.” Merlin stuttered.

    “He's never done that before.” Morgana perched in the chair closest to Gwen. “Ever. But he just did, or is doing, I suppose. He told me to come find you, but he was still going when I left. Not yelling. I yell, but Arthur...he's just...”

    But she didn't have the words apparently.

    “Oh dear.” Gwen said. “I hope...I mean, dinner was dreadful, but it's his father.”

    Morgana snorted. “Arthur's never had a father, Gwen.”

    “Did you know this would happen?” Merlin asked.

    “No.” Morgana seemed mildly offended. “I had hoped he would end up staying in London all Holiday, he has before and things are so...volatile right now. But I never dreamed he'd come home early, and I thought even he could be tolerable for a week. I'd have hid Gwen in my closet if I'd know that was going to happen. And I'd have let you go straight to your mother.”

    Merlin, bizarrely, from Gwen's point of view seemed unconvinced.

    “That...that's what they used to fight about, isn't it?” Gwen said to herself.

    “What?” Morgana asked.

    “My father and brother...I never really knew....but I think...” Gwen was putting things together in her head. Elyan. It all came back to Elyan. What were those few things she'd heard from their arguments? Could it have been that Elyan had been a sympathizers then as well?

    “I don't think we should wait for Arthur.” Morgana finally said after a long silence. “Whatever happens he's probably going to want...space, and time. But you,” Morgana pointed to Merlin, “I expect you to get over yourself for tomorrow and be nice to him. One day is all I'm asking. He deserves it.”

    Merlin looked wounded and frightened, but Morgana ignored him. To Gwen she said,

    “I suggest a nice long bath. I have an absolutely horrid romance novel Arthur bought me for my seventeenth birthday you can borrow. If mocking the characters and laughing at the writing while soaking in bubbles doesn't help you unwind, nothing will.”

 


	20. Ensamble Chapter Ninteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything happens all at once when an old foe of Uther's decides to seek revenge,
> 
> "I will take back what I have given you. I have set a trap for your son. Either he or your ward will die tonight, and I will take the other when you least expect it. I will strip you of everything you love. There are people left who defy you, people who helped me escape. Even if I am caught, I have left instructions for others. You can kill me Uther Pendragon, but even then you will watch everything you love die."

Chapter 19

~*~Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, and Morgana~*~

   

    When Arthur finally got back to his room, he found Merlin waiting for him, perched on the end of Arthur's bed.

    “What the--”

    “My favorite river is the Archeon.” Merlin said, standing up. “It's the eighth longest river in Albion, but the reason it's my favorite is because it cuts through a special kind of limestone that offers one of the best geological records of the Paleocene in the world. There's just something about looking at those layers and knowing that you're seeing a record, like a giant book, that makes me feel alive. Plus, the name comes from mythology and means 'woe'. I kind of like that because the water cuts through the rock, erodes it, no matter how hard it is, rock can't stand against water if there is enough of it. Woe cuts through history. There's something sad in that, but it feels fitting. Woe can erode everything in the end, change it, damage it, but at the same time open things up.

    Morgana says you stood up to your father.”

    The way Merlin tacked it on at the end did not help Arthur ground himself. He had indeed had his first real fight with his father, and then he'd gone back to his room to find Merlin waiting for him instead of avoiding him, and finally answering the question he'd asked weeks ago. It was unexpected, not in the least because Morgana had made him think Merlin would just be rattling off statistics about water, not that he had actual feelings about rivers and history and woe.

    “I guess I did.” Arthur shrugged.

    “Thank you.” Merlin offered before crossing to the door, pausing beside Arthur.

    “He was wrong.” Arthur sighed, weariness overcoming him.

    “He was.” Merlin agreed. “But you could have let it go. People go along with what he says all the time. It matters that you and Morgana don't always.”

    And with that, he left.

    Arthur stripped off his dinner clothes slowly. He'd never been so tired in his life. He'd hated what his father did to Merlin during dinner. But he probably would have let that go, and that filled his insides with a kind of writhing shame. It was his father's treatment of Gwen that had spurred him into action. He'd been about to interrupt himself, but Morgana had beaten him to it. He might have let her handle it, might have played to coward, but it was clear his father didn't think her objections had any basis, he thought Morgana was making a scene. And that's why Arthur had intervened.

    His father had been shocked, stern, and then angry, but Arthur never backed down, and he never shouted. Arthur didn't even know he could do that. Nothing was accomplished in the end, not really. Uther still seemed to think the problem was his charges behavior, not his. But Arthur learned something from all of it, he wasn't quite sure what, but something had changed.

  


    Morgana had fallen asleep sometime during the movie. Gwen envied her. She hadn't slept much since the dinner with the Duke. Since then, Morgana and Arthur insisted on meals in the playroom. They'd had a small table brought in, and when Merlin or Gwen objected awkwardly that it was a time for family, and they felt bad for the discord and separation, Morgana and Arthur had been united in their dismissals. It wasn't something either outsider really wished to press anyway. Merlin only had two more days at Pendragon Castle, and Gwen was going to miss him. She wondered if she'd sleep at all after he left.

    Gwen carefully set their tea cups and popcorn bowls on the silver tray and, watching Morgana for signs of waking, slipped out into the hall with it. There was a delicate looking trolley outside to set the tray on so the staff could take it back to the kitchen without entering Morgana's room in the morning. Gwen set it down carefully, but paused to frown at it. Gwen had confessed her sleep troubles to Ms. Martin when the housekeeper had noticed her yawning and had inquired if there was something amiss in her room. Ms. Martin had offered to have warm milk or chamomile tea sent up for her, but Gwen had balked at the fuss. Ms. Martin settled on a compromise—providing His Grace never found out: Gwen could visit the kitchens herself using the servants stair. She had popped down the one night and while she didn't think the warm milk made her any sleepier, there was something soothing about it anyway. And, if she was going down to the kitchens, it seemed ridiculous to leave the tray on the trolley. She supposed she ought to, she had a feeling that guests doing any sort of work at all would upset the entire world within the castle, however well meaning they might be, but it just...bothered Gwen. There was no real reasons she shouldn't, or couldn't, take the tray down. Gwen sighed at herself, but picked the tray up and furtively headed off.

    About halfway down to the kitchen, everything went pitch black. Gwen froze with a foot on each stair and the tray rattled as she reeled for a moment, disorientated by the suddenness. She took a moment to breathe again, and then pondered what on earth to do considering she was holding the tray on an unfamiliar stair case and, as far as she could tell, the power had gone out. The storm wasn't supposed to be that bad, but, there was no arguing with the darkness all around her.

    She set the tray on the stairs, pulled out her phone for light, and grabbed the tray again, balancing both with some difficulty. It was slow going, but she didn't want to leave the tray in case someone else came down and tripped over it. Gwen expected there to be some light in the kitchen, though if she'd thought much about it, she'd have noticed there wasn't any light around the door and no sound coming from the kitchen. The kitchen did have windows, and despite the night, a small amount of illumination did manage to greet Gwen when she opened the door. That plus her phone was enough for her to tell that everyone in the kitchen was lying on the floor. Gwen stifled a scream of shock and concern and, casting a quick glance around the room for some threat, set the tray and her phone down next to the nearest person so she could to check for a pulse.

    The young woman's heart beat in a relaxed but strong manner. Gwen shook her arm experimentally, whispering for her to wake up. Nothing happened. Gwen sighed, clearly something was terribly wrong. She picked up her phone again, but not for light. No service. To be fair, Gwen had never tried to use it in the kitchen, but it had always had full bars elsewhere in Pendragon Castle. Biting her lip, Gwen sat back on her legs, trying to think. Kitchen staff unconscious, power cut, and no mobile service. That really seemed quite bad.

    “If I were a landline where would I be?” She murmured. “The Duke's study? I don't know where that is. Maybe Ms. Martin's office? Does she have an office? Really, I think the kitchen ought ...”

    And so she got up and began wandering around the kitchen looking for a phone. Really she was trying not to panic. There was a phone, thankfully, in between two doors, one that Gwen guessed was a pantry and the other seemed to go to a back entryway.

    Taking a deep breath, she picked up the receiver and exhaled in relief at the dial tone. She had explained her situation to the emergency operator and was about to be coached on what to do next, when she heard footsteps.

    “Oh no.” Gwen whispered. “Someone's coming..” And hung up on the poor operator telling her not to. She ducked into the pantry and held her breath. It really was a pantry, or at least it smelled of garlic and was lined with shelves. Someone came in from the outside, did not pause, but walked straight through the kitchen and opened, what Gwen guessed, was the door leading out into the hallway the kitchen staff used to take the food to the main dining room. She waited for a few moments, trying to decide what to do.

  


    “Morgana?” Arthur rapped on her door, a torch held loosely in his hand and shining on the ground. After a moment, Morgana pushed her door open.

    “Why is it dark? Where's Gwen?” she asked. Her hair was tousled, and she was in her dressing gown, feet in fluffy slippers.

    “The power went out, I assumed Gwen was in her room.” He frowned. “I left Merlin in the playroom.”

    “She might be, but I fell asleep while we were watching a movie. Let's go get her. I didn't think the storm was supposed to be that bad.”

    “It wasn't, but who knows.” Arthur shrugged as they walked down the hall. “But Merlin says the power has been out for at least ten minutes. I guess he was awake when it cut out. What's more worrying is that he started raving about cell reception, because apparently his phone isn't working.”

    Morgana paused, clearly considering going back to check hers.

    “Gwen first,” she sighed. Arthur held the flashlight out so the beam made the familiar hallway small and eerie.

    “I don't like this.” Morgana murmured.

    “Me either.” he agreed.

    Morgana knocked on Gwen's door and called, but there was no answer. Arthur handed her the torch as she opened the door.

    “Gwen?” she moved the light over the room. Gwen wasn't in her bed, she wasn't anywhere.

    “Where else could she be?” Arthur asked, entering the room and staring around as Morgana came back from checking Gwen's en suite.

    “I don't know. She doesn't seem likely to go wandering around at night. Maybe she sleepwalks?”

    “We should go back and get Merlin. Something is wrong.”

    And so they made their way back to the playroom, knowing that by now, they should have seen someone bringing torches up to check on them.

    But there was something wrong in the playroom. Merlin wasn't there, and as Arthur cast the light around looking for him, they spotted two silver goblets on the chess table. Those had not been there earlier, and neither of them recognized them as anything belonging to Pendragon Castle.

    “Arthur.” Morgana put a hand on his elbow, but before Arthur could think of what to say, they heard movement from the hallway. They spun around, light shining on the doorway.

    “Now, I think we'll play a little game.” A harsh, low voice said. With some shuffling, Merlin was pushed into the room, being held awkwardly by Mr. Black. He had one arm around Merlin's chest holding a knife to his throat, the other hand was pointing a gun into the room. Arthur didn’t spare a thought to the betrayal, the knife and the gun had his full attention.

    “If you play by the rules, only one of you has to die. But, I really don't mind killing all three of you, so if you want to try anything stupid, we can up the count.”

    Merlin twitched in Mr. Black's grasp. He was pale, eyes wide, throat swallowing against the pressure of the knife. Morgana held her hands out and open, but Arthur just dropped the torch. It rolled a few inches away, pointing vaguely in the direction of Mr. Black and Merlin, casting odd shadows and adding unnecessarily to the atmosphere of horror.

    “Where's the other lass? Not joining us? Good for her. I never liked extras. Though I think this little game will work better with three than two anyway. Now then, take a seat, both of you.” Mr. Black pointed at the chess table with the gun. Morgana and Arthur sat, facing each other over the goblets. Arthur looked into Morgana's tense and frightened face. He clenched his jaw and looked back at Mr. Black.

    “Now here's how this works,” Mr. Black forced Merlin further into the room, knife digging into his skin and gun pointing at Arthur. “One of those goblet's is poisoned. When the game starts, you'll have two minutes to decide who drinks from which goblet. After you make up your minds, you both drink. One of you will die, and the other will live. This young man will tie you up for me, and then escort me out. He and whoever survives can then live happily ever after. Unless, of course, one of you tries something like spilling the wine, or charging me, or whatever else you might think up. Then I slit this boy's throat, and shoot both of you. Now, those were the rules my employer gave me, but I'll throw in a little bonus fun because I like you so much. In your two minutes, if you decide that you'd rather I just kill this one, well, then it can be the two of you who live. But there is no way all three of you will see tomorrow, so make your peace with that now.”

    No one knew what to say to that. Everything seemed to be happening too fast.

    “Alright then, your two minutes starts now.”   

    “You don't care as long as one of us dies?” Arthur asked, his eyes flicking up to meet Merlin's.

    “That's the game.” the butler replied with an obscene smile.

    “Right then,” Arthur turned back to Morgana. He had to be quick or she would figure him out. “I vote we take our chances then.”

    But as Morgana was nodding, Arthur grabbed her goblet and poured it into the one in front of him.

    “Arthur!” Morgana reached out, but Arthur pulled his goblet away, standing to face the man holding Merlin, he raised it to his lips and swallowed.

    Mr. Black had started to cut Merlin when Arthur had acted so unexpectedly, but when he realized what Arthur was doing, he stopped.

    “Arthur, no.” Morgana choked out.

    Blood trickled down Merlin's throat as he watched Arthur drain the goblet in horror. Arthur held his eyes the whole time. It was madness, but there had been no time to think. It wasn't a riddle that Morgana could solve. Only recklessness would do, and, of the three of them, Arthur knew that was his area.

    “Brave.” Mr. Black laughed. “And fair is fair, I'll allow it.”

    Merlin struggled uselessly.

    “Ah no, laddie.” Mr. Black hissed softly. “Don't make this harder than it has to be. I can still kill you and her ladyship so just...accept the gift the little Earl here has given you.”

    Arthur set the goblet down quietly on the table. He took a deep breath and Morgana's hand, it was clammy as he squeezed it.

    “You idiot.” She said. “I will never forgive you.”

    “Love you too.” Arthur whispered, sitting back down. He'd never said that before. They'd been raised together for eleven years, but they never took the final step to become family. Arthur's jealousy always prevented that, and something in Morgana as well, perhaps her defiance of his father, or loyalty to hers. And the worry that Uther would expect them to marry one day—he'd never suggested such a thing, but, Arthur was never certain about it.

    “Now then young lady,” Mr. Black said. “How about you take the rope in the bag by your feet and tie up our young hero. He's not going to be up for much in a moment, but it’s better to be thorough, don’t you think? I'm going to watch you, so make sure you do a good job.”

    Morgana shuddered and threw Mr. Black a murderous glance, but the blood seeping into Merlin's shirt was enough to ensure her compliance. She tied Arthur to his chair, then she sat while Merlin bound her in turn.

    “I'm so sorry.” He whispered but she shook her head, tears sliding down the side of her nose. He glanced at Arthur who gave him a lazy smile. Merlin looked like he might be sick, the cut at his neck was clearly not deep, but a steady flow crimson set off is pale skin in the dimness.

    “And there we are. I'd say goodbye to our hero if I were you boy, by the time you get back here, it might be too late.”

    “Arthur.” was all Merlin managed.

    “It's ok, Merlin.” Arthur replied.

    “How touching. Now let's go.” Mr. Black waved Merlin toward the door with his gun.

  


    Exactly why Gwen chose to follow the mysterious person who had just come in rather than call back and talk to the emergency operator, she never could really explain, even to herself. Gwen didn't really consider herself a bold person, or a rash one. But she supposed that people did foolish things all the time, and she was no exception. So she cautiously opened the door she thought the person must have taken, and slipped into the dark. She didn't dare use her mobile for light and crept along slowly, one hand on the wall and the other out in front of her. Finally she came to a door, and, pressing her ear to the crack, she could just make out voices coming from within the main dining room.

    “I should have known.” Uther said.

    “Yes, I think you should have.” a female voice responded. “All actions have consequences, Uther.”

    “Indeed they have!” Uther's voice rang out. “And you, and all of those like you, will pay--”

    “For what?” the woman challenged. “I did as you asked! You and Igraine begged me to help you have a child, and I was the only one who would take your case. You knew the risks!”

    “You killed my wife!” Uther roared. But then his voice was almost inaudible as he added, “She was my heart.”

    “I didn't kill her.” The woman responded coldly, “You did. You and your obsession with an heir. I tried to give you what you wanted, but I told you from the beginning it might end in tragedy.”

    “You never cared! You used us to advance your own career, all you cared about was getting your miracle baby, and your name in the journals! You never cared what it cost! You are incapable of feeling anything at all! People like you shouldn't be in medicine, people like you shouldn't be alive!”

    “You know full well that I feel. Why else would you take such pains to hurt me? And what will your revenge cost? You have killed and imprisoned millions. This country bleeds for your grief. If we must bleed, so must you. I will take back what I have given you. I have set a trap for your son. Either he or your ward will die tonight, and I will take the other when you least expect it. I will strip you of everything you love. There are people left who defy you, people who helped me escape. Even if I am caught, I have left instructions for others. You can kill me Uther Pendragon, but even then you will watch everything you love die.”

    Gwen's heart hammered against her chest. Arthur! Morgana! She inched back, not listening to Uther's reply. She had to find them, she had to warn them. She pulled out her phone and found she still lacked service. Just as she decided it was safe and closed the door behind her, she heard movement from somewhere ahead. Frantically she glanced around for a hiding place, and ducked behind a large pedestal with a heavy brass bust of some famous Pendragon resting atop it. She tucked her phone into her pocket. The hall was dark, but the large windows let in just enough light for her to make out shapes, and what was close to her.

    Merlin walked into view, closely followed by a man with a gun pointed vaguely at Merlin's back. She knew it was Merlin, even in the dark, because of his long limbs and the way he moved.

    “Just keep walking, laddie.” the man said. “Soon it will all be over.”

    Gwen closed her eyes and took two very deep breaths. Watching as they moved past her, she grabbed the heavy statue and, before she could lose her nerve, swung it as hard as she could at the back of the man's head. He fell sideways, the gun clattering on the smooth floor. Merlin let out a shocked whimper as he saw her, standing over the man, ready to bash his skull if need be.

    “Oh. oh. oh.” Gwen whispered staring at the unconscious man on the floor. It was Mr. Black, the butler. “Is he dead?”

    She threw Merlin a terrified look. “What if I killed him?”

    Merlin poked at the man with his foot  then knelt down to check his pulse.

    “Alive.” He said, looking at the bloody gash in the man's head. Gwen was very sure Merlin would lie to her, and was very glad of it. She set the statue down, watching the blood ooze from a cut on Merlin's neck. It didn't look serious, but she wondered how he had gotten it.

    “I don't know what's going on, but Arthur and Morgana are in danger.” Gwen said quickly in a hushed whisper.

    But Merlin shook his head. “Too late.”

    “What?” squeaked Gwen, almost forgetting to keep her voice down.

    “Arthur's been poisoned. We need to call an ambulance.”

    “I called for help about ten minutes ago, but they said it might take awhile because of the storm. Everyone in the kitchen was unconscious, I was supposed to stay on the line but...there's someone else here and I hid and...I have to go.”

    “What? Gwen!” Merlin called.

    “Shhh!” She hissed furiously. “Trust me.”

    Gwen skidded back along the hall to the doors to the dining room, and threw them wide.

  


    Merlin stared after Gwen for all of a second. He looked back at the man on the floor and decided the wound Gwen had inflicted was severe enough to not bother tying to the man up, or locking him in a cupboard somewhere. The man wasn't dead yet, but Merlin wasn't sure Gwen hadn't done serious damage. Either way, _Arthur was dying_ , and Morgana was tied to a chair. And so Merlin ran back up the stairs to find them.

    Morgana had gotten loose somehow, and she was cradling Arthur's head in her lap.

    “Arthur, please.” She pleaded. Arthur's eyes were closed.

    Merlin tumbled into the room and nearly landed on top of them in his haste to kneel beside Arthur.

    “Gwen called for help about ten minutes ago. Just hang on.”

    “No more rope.” Arthur muttered.

    Morgana looked at Merlin. “What do we do?”

    “Make him throw up?” Merlin suggested.

    “I already did.” Morgana sighed. “As soon as I got the ropes off, but...”

    But Arthur was laying in her lap breathing shallowly.

    “'S ok.” Arthur said.

    “You can't die.” Morgana insisted, then taking a shaky breath, “Where is Gwen?”

    “I have no idea.” Merlin sighed, sitting down and pulling his knees up to his chest. “She ran off telling me to trust her. I decided to come back here and untie you.”

    “My father?” Arthur asked.

    “I don't know. Maybe that's what Gwen is doing. Do you want me to--”

    “Arthur!” Morgana cried. He didn't answer.

    “Arthur!” She shook him slightly. “No.”

    Merlin put his ear to Arthur's chest.

    “Not breathing!” He cried as he put his fingers to Arthur's neck.

    The woman and Uther stared at Gwen in shock.

    “Arthur is innocent.” Gwen said, looking straight at the woman. “Whatever the Duke has done, Arthur is innocent. He's only eighteen, he goes to university with me, he's my friend and I'm telling you he doesn't deserve to die.”

    Gwen took a deep breath but kept talking, “My father helped you escape, didn't he? Well he died, and Public Safety came after me. They took me, and they shouted, and asked things I didn't understand, and I don't know what would have happened to me. But Morgana and Arthur got me out. Arthur picked me up and drove me back to Camelot. They're good people. They aren't...they aren't like him.”

    She pointed at the Duke of Somerset, because, hell, if she was going to do it, she might as well go all out. Arthur was dying.

    “I know I'm lucky, I know plenty of people don't have friends who can help them. But my dad died so you could escape, and now you are killing my friend. You're killing him, and he's never done anything to you and...and...that makes you as bad as his father. I already called for help, but I don't know if they'll get here in time, so you are going to give me the antidote, tell me how to make one, or at least tell me what poison was used so they can help him as soon as possible.

    “You owe me his life.” Gwen finished, glaring and panting because she had forgotten to breathe somewhere during her speech.

    Silence rang, echoing and pulsing in Gwen's ears as she waited to find out what would happen next.

    The woman shook her head slightly. “Tom's daughter.”

    “Yes.” Gwen replied.

    “I'll give you the antidote.”

  


    Morgana was an orphan with no family. She had no one in the world, no one but Arthur, and Uther, and as Merlin counted chest compressions, all she could do was watch. Her mind refused to find any other ideas, though dimly she knew there must be something, something she should be doing that she wasn't. Instead of finding anything, her mind slowly pulled itself in, leaving her with fewer and fewer thoughts. All that was left was Merlin's voice, and Arthur's still face.

    “Arthur!” Merlin cried in between numbers, his voice unrecognizable.

    Morgana wasn't even crying anymore, she was perfectly still. Somewhere, a new sound trickled through her mind.

    “Merlin!” a distant voice called, “Morgana!”

    “Gwen?” Morgana whispered, trying to come back to reality.

    “Gwen!” She shouted. “In here!”

    And Gwen ran into the room, a small box in her hand. She took one look at Merlin and Arthur on the floor and started sobbing,

    “I have the antidote.” She knelt next to Merlin and opened the case, hands shaking. She tore open an alcohol pad and cleaned a place on his arm. Then, pausing for a fraction of a second, she pulled out a syringe and carefully inserted the needle into Arthur's arm and pushed down on the plunger.

    Gwen let out a choked sob as she pulled the needle out and put it back in the box. She put her hands to her face, brushing at her tears as she watched Arthur's face. Merlin, bless him, just kept on pumping Arthur's heart and pausing to breathe for him. Morgana crawled over to sit next to Gwen while they waited. Merlin was keeping the blood circulating so there was hope, there was a chance, there had to be.

    “Arthur, please.” Gwen begged, hands clutching her face.

    “Arthur!” Merlin shouted again, his voice cracking.

    And they waited an eternity for the ambulance crew to arrive.

    But Arthur lived.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -this is the mountain troll. now they are all friends, all in it together (at least until...well....it's a ways off don't worry about it...yet), and Merlin and Arthur can move from not liking each other and being afraid etc to the pigtail pulling.
> 
> -The Archeon is the name of two rivers in New Zealand, the details given are based on a different river in NZ called Clarence.
> 
> -I have a serious fear of poison and thus looking up exactly what sort of poison, the effects, and how to counteract it would not have been a good idea so I apologize for being both vague and likely inaccurate.


	21. Ensamble Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur recovers in the hospital and everyone is a bit clingy.
> 
> END OF PART ONE.

Chapter Twenty

~*~ Morgana, Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur ~*~

    Everything seemed to change after Arthur almost died. He did die, really, Morgana thought. His heart stopped, his breath stopped, that counted. Arthur had died. For the first time since she'd lost her father, Morgana really looked at Arthur.

    He lay asleep in his hospital bed, face relaxed, blond hair perfect from all the people who had reached out to smooth it. When she had first arrived at the castle at eight years old, Arthur had been just another part of the new world without her father in it, and she had hated everything to do with that world. He wasn't unkind, but that didn't matter. It wouldn't have mattered to Morgana if Arthur had been the most compassionate and understanding seven year old boy on the planet. He was a stranger, and she wanted her father back, she wanted to go home, she wanted the people and places and things that had been hers. All she got was a demanding and distant Uther, an awkward and imperious Arthur, and a silent, stuffy castle.

    As her grief had settled and she adjusted to her new life, Arthur had been a cautious ally. He sometimes tried to intercede on her behalf with his father—never outright conflict like after Uther's interrogation of Gwen—but timid suggestions or questions aimed at reminding Uther that Morgana was a child, that she was not used to Uther's rules, that she was human and not a thing. But mainly he'd been a puzzle. They had not been friends, they resented each other too much for that, and their personalities did not lend themselves in that direction. Arthur was jealous of the uncharacteristic softness Uther showed Morgana at seemingly random intervals. Morgana resented Arthur's entire existence in her life. Morgana didn't really have friends, and Arthur's friends were all boys his own age whose father's were peers in Uther's circle.

    A grudging respect and familiarity did eventually arise between them. They had had eleven years together as virtual siblings. Her hatred for Uther had never abated, so Arthur had become the closest thing she had to family. And then Arthur had died.

    Morgana was overwhelmed by it.

    They said he was lucky, incredibly lucky, bordering on miraculous. At first they didn't know if he would wake up, and then they didn't know what sort of damage the poison might have done. But he did wake up, and there didn't appear to be any permanent effects. Even Merlin's CPR had only cracked two ribs—and not badly. If the whole ordeal had taken more than approximately ten minutes, Arthur would have stayed dead. If anything at all had gone differently, he might well have stayed dead.

    But he was there, in the hospital bed, with his IV, and machines beeping reassuringly as his heart kept on beating, and Morgan found that never again would she be able to pretend they were still strangers forced to live together, or that her interest in him was solely in the puzzle he presented. Never again could she pretend that he wasn't family.

    She stood up and stretched, sighing at Arthur.

    “You idiot.” she whispered.

  


    “Hey.” Merlin smiled tentatively as Arthur's eyes slowly opened. He got up from the chair in the corner, inching closer to Arthur's bed.

    “Every time I wake up there's someone different here.” Arthur mumbled, moving slightly and looking around the room. “Last time it was Morgana. I think...unless I'm dreaming this stuff.”

    “Probably not. We have all been here. Sometimes we all just watch you sleep, all of us, your father, Morgana, Gwen, and me. Just standing around in silence, watching.”

    “Bull. No way do they allow everyone in at once. You wouldn't even fit.”

    “Ok, we usually take it in turns. Morgana and your father are sleeping now, Gwen's getting food.”

    They had all become rather clingy with Arthur after he nearly died. The thing Merlin found strangest about that fact, was that Somerset didn't seem to mind that Merlin and Gwen weren't any keener to let Arthur out of their sight than he or Morgana were. Then again, Merlin supposed a lot of credit for Arthur still being alive went to them, so maybe that was it.

    “Creepy. The lot of you.” Arthur mused while shifting again experimentally. “But you did save my life, so...”

    “No.” Merlin shook his head. “Gwen did but I didn't.”

    “Merlin—”

    “No.” Merlin insisted. “You didn't just get poisoned, you drank the stupid stuff to try to keep me and Morgana safe. I did CPR to try to keep you alive. It all evens out. Gwen though, if she hadn't called the ambulance when she did, or get the antidote...”

    “Yes, I guess it was a team effort.” Arthur conceded. “But drinking poison takes far less skill than keeping me alive, and only breaking two of my ribs.”

    “Just...shut up about it.” Merlin shrugged. “I'm trying to forget it.”

    “Fine, just, you know...thanks.”   

    “Yeah, thank you, too.” Merlin sat back in the chair and wondered what else there was to say.

    The whole thing was a receding blur in his mind. He couldn't really remember it. He knew what had happened, but it was mainly from what Gwen and Morgana had said, and these odd disconnected flashes. The feeling of all encompassing panic lingered; the kind that stabbed into your chest and made you sure you were physically hurt. But Merlin's mind seemed to be coping with this particular trauma by erasing it. He didn't mind.

    Merlin was torn between feeling like this cemented them all together and made it so that he and Arthur were forever connected, and being certain that he needed to transfer far away and cut all ties with all of them.

    “Aren't you supposed to go home some time soon...wait, what day is it anyway?” Arthur finally asked once the silence stretched too long.

    “I'm supposed to leave tonight, actually.” Merlin replied. “I just...”

    He cleared his throat. “It's a thing that can happen when something awful, something traumatic happens, you can get kind of strange feelings or thoughts. And...”

    “What, Merlin?”

    “I was keeping your heart beating, and now it feels like if I'm not here it will stop again.” Merlin said in a rush. “I mean, we all feel that way. Like if we're not here you'll...and it's a thing. It passes, just, it's been a day, Arthur, or some hours and a day and it's just...really...”

    “It's alright Merlin, I get it.” Arthur said softly.

    “I really hope you don't.” Merlin let out a shaky breath. “It sucks.”

    “Hey, come here.”

    Merlin frowned, but got up and approached Arthur's bedside. Arthur held out his hand. Merlin's frown deepened but after a deep breath, he put his hand in Arthur's. Arthur squeezed his fingers.

    “Look at me.”

    Merlin's eyes found Arthur's, and held for three beeps on Arthur's heart monitor. Then he dropped his gaze, and pulled his hand away.

    “I'm alive.” Arthur said firmly. “I'm fine now. You did it, and it's over. Go home and see your mum. Go put the star on your too perfect fake tree, and all that stuff you do. You can see me when we all go back to Camelot. It's over, and we're all safe now.”

    “Promise?” Merlin asked weakly, hating how pathetic he sounded.

    “Promise.” Arthur answered solemnly.

  


    “I wanted to apologize.” The Duke of Somerset said, having found Gwen in the hospital cantina. He was supposed to be at home with Morgana, it was their turn to catch a little sleep. No one liked that part, but not only had the doctors and nurses insisted, but they couldn't all hover by Arthur's beside.

    Gwen had no idea how to behave around the Duke. She never had, but now it was, somehow, even worse.

    “Uh,” she stammered. “I mean, me too actually. About what I said to...um, her. I was just trying to save Arthur, I meant no disrespect.”

    The Duke waved her words away. “You did what you had to, and I appreciate it.”

    He began again, “I treated you badly at dinner. I should not have done so. It was unfair of me.”

    Gwen blinked at him. “Oh, um, apology accepted, Your Grace.”

    “I also wanted to thank you for saving my son's life.”

    Gwen thought the aforementioned dinner was sure to be the most awkward conversation of her life but no, this definitely was. She cleared her throat slightly. “I'm just glad Arthur's alright.”

    “I have arranged for your father's estate to be transferred to you.” The Duke continued. “The house will be maintained by a caretaker while you are at university. My secretary will make sure you have all the appropriate paperwork.

    “Oh.” Gwen's mouth fell open for a moment. “I, that is, thank you, Your Grace. That means a lot to me.”

    He nodded at her once and then turned to go. Gwen just blinked in confusion. But then he turned back.

    “I wish to further apologize to you Miss Smith, for the fact that you were not safe in my home.”

    And then he left.

    Gwen shook her head. It had been the most bizarre week, and considering the term she'd had, that was saying something.

    She wondered about the house. On the one hand, she did want to go back. All her childhood things were there, as well as many things she had not needed, or could not take with her to university. And to Gwen it was where he father was. She had no idea where he'd been buried, but the last place she had seen him had been their kitchen. She wondered if it would make her feel closer to him to go back, or merely remind her that he truly was gone forever. Would it help or hurt to go into his room and sit on his bed, to look at the door of his closet where his ties hung?

    And suddenly she was crying. She fought it at first, swiping at the fat tears rolling down her cheeks, but then she gave in, put her face in her hands and let her shoulders shake. Crying in a hospital wasn't strange, she supposed. And she wished she could go home so badly, not to visit the house, but go home to her father and her brother before their family had fractured. She wished she could go home and find them both there, and her mother too, because that wasn't fair either.

  
  
  


    Arthur was surprised, but privately very glad, no one thought to ask him why. Oh, his father had asked him why he did it, so had Morgana, but that was the wrong why. It was easy to explain why he did it.

    “I didn't think.” He shrugged. “I saw the knife, the gun, there wasn't time to think, so I just did it.”

    It was true. He didn't have time to think, he really did panic and do the first thing that came into his head. But no one was asking him why the first thing that came to mind when there was a knife at Merlin's neck, and a gun pointed at Morgana, was to make sure he drank the poison. Why was his first instinct to sacrifice himself, rather than try to figure something out? Why wasn't his first thought, as heir to the Pendragon line, not to save himself and his foster sister by sacrificing Merlin? Why hadn't he left it to fate? Why hadn't he tried something, anything else?

    Arthur didn't have any idea.

    He did know that he had finally won Merlin over. He wondered how much overkill it was, would any situation with mutual life saving do, or did it have to be a madman with three deadly weapons, and Arthur's self-sacrifice? Or could they maybe have just watched a few movies, and talked about Merlin's missing father, and Arthur's dead mother? Before the whole thing, he might have thought he'd prefer nearly dying to bonding over absent parents, but now that it had happened, he was pretty sure he'd prefer not having cracked ribs. It was worth it though, to have Merlin meet his eyes, and place his hand in Arthur’s, and ask for that promise. Somehow it made Arthur feel more whole.

    He was going to have to properly think about that, but sometime when he wasn't on so much of whatever pain killer they gave him. He wasn't sure if thoughts about what Merlin meant were actually slipping out of his mind's grasp, or his mind was letting them go rather than deal with them. His brain also didn't seem to want to think about how disturbing it was that Mr. Black, who'd seen Arthur in diapers, had tried to kill him. All he could seem to think about was how little he knew about water. What was the difference between a stream and a creek, really? He thought of brooks as being smaller, but was that accurate? What made something a river? What the hell was an estuary?

    Water made him sleepy, it made him feel safe. Maybe that's why Merlin liked it so much.

  
  
  


    “So, are you going to tell me why Mr. Black tried to kill us? Or who Gwen got the antidote from?” Morgana asked, leaning against the car.

    Uther had asked her to wait while he spoke with Gwen. Morgana had objected until he told her what he planned to do. Uther never apologized to Arthur or Morgana when he went too far, he sent gifts. Morgana had gotten her fair share of them, from the teddy bear when she was eight, to a white gold plated flute when she was sixteen. Uther included an aspect of that with Gwen, giving her back her father's property, but he had indicated he wished to apologize to her for how he'd treated her. Morgana supposed it was different if you weren't family or whatever she was to Uther. Surely he had had to apologize in his political career, sincerely or not. Uther pointed her into the car and told the driver to take them home. Finally he answered Morgana's question:

    “Gwen obtained the antidote from one of the very people her father set free, Cara Nimueh. She was a doctor, and one of the very first people I managed to put away for her instability. She was a vile creature even then, devoid of empathy, and interested only in scientific advancement for her own vanity. She used families as pawns, as experiments.” The note of hatred in his voice was a common thing when he spoke of such people.

    “But, as I said, the laws I helped create to stop such monsters, put her into a very secure prison for the criminally insane. She thus sought to revenge herself on me by harming those I hold most dear. Mr. Black was merely someone she managed to brainwash into doing her dirty work. I suspect she found some flaw in his character to exploit. That is the ever present danger of mental defects, of course, they can lie dormant or be hidden sometimes for years before they are exposed. We must be vigilant. And even one such as myself can be fooled by sentiment into thinking I know and can trust them.

    Morgana didn't know what to think about that, but as she began musing about whether or not Uther might actually be justified in his beliefs after all, he added:

    “They had not planned on you and Arthur bringing friends back from university. They had planned this in advance, and thus were prepared to handle the staff, they were prepared that I might or might not be present when they executed their scheme. But they were not expecting any guests, and thus had no plan to incapacitate them. Mr. Black improvised with regards to Merlin, but Gwen was their undoing. It was extremely fortunate you brought them. I hope you will extend them both future invitations to visit during the holidays.”

    “Of course.” Morgana nodded. “I had hoped to have Gwen come frequently, considering...her situation. And I think Arthur has grown rather fond of Merlin.”

    “Yes, I had noticed that. But the boy did save his life, with Gwen's assistance.” Uther remarked casually.

    Well that was ominous, Morgana thought. And she carefully changed the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this thing was 79 pages in writer. spell check stopped working somewhere around page 65.
> 
> THANKS FOR READING. I would promise Part Two would be not as long, but then I went to outline it and...I can't be sure.
> 
> What I can say is that part two has a LOT to cover and accomplish so hopefully it will be worth as many words as it ends up being.


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